


Faults in Memory

by maliciousfisheeves



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Mild Language, Not Really Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-01-29 14:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 64,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12633021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maliciousfisheeves/pseuds/maliciousfisheeves
Summary: What is the Lingering Will? Can it feel love, or only hatred? Is it Terra, or has nearly a decade transformed it into it's own being? Perhaps a blank slate will clear these questions...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea. Loosely based after DDD -- Terra's heart returns to his body, at least that was the plan. Not really alternate universe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Throw yourself headlong into being alive again.

 

[[Image created by me]](https://9blueturtles.deviantart.com/art/Faultlines-Otr-Cover-727928349)

* * *

 

      

         It is the first breath he has taken in over a decade. It stings and burns, like he’s swallowed poison. Perhaps it was more like he’d never breathed at all.

          The world spun round and round, spinning and spinning and spinning, spiraling and spiraling and spiraling and spiraling. Confusing and disorienting. He felt cold to the core, freezing on the inside but burning at the surface of his skin.

          The world slowed at a name being called, close to his face. The words seemed to pelt him like sleet.

 

          “Terra!” the voice called again. Sharp and concerned and… too much.

 

          He pushed himself off the ground, the sensation of a wood floor against his skin – all sensation – prickled against his nerves as though they were laid bare. His palm and forearm, shoving together, sent shooting messages up his arm, and he could feel them tingle as they climbed up his neck and to the junction where his skull and spine came together.

          He squeezed his eyes shut, visual snow clouding his blindness and attempts to orient himself. He couldn’t tell what was up and down, only that it felt like someone was driving a spike through his head.

          Having sat upright, (at least, that’s what he’d been trying to do. He may have still only been lying on his side on the floor and pushed himself off a wall. He didn’t know) his freed hands flew to his face, pressing the flat of his palm to his eyes in a vague hope it’d make everything hurt just a little less. It did nothing to stop the pain, only change it – turning it from sharp to dull.

          He was pretty sure, either by compulsion or by reflex, that he slammed his head against the ground after that. It didn’t hurt, he just remembered the very loud sound it made, and it seemed to dissipate the pain – just a bit, but a bit made the difference between a meter and a mile. It also confirmed that he had gotten himself upright, which meant he knew which way was up, at least.

          He bared the sting of light when he opened his eyes once more. The world still spun, but a little more slowly. He felt something distinct come from the vague people-shaped figures around him – a mixture of feelings, but many were… fear. ‘Surprise’ did not intend what he felt, because a surprise could be pleasant. ‘Shock’ did not really fit either, as though it emanated from some, the general feeling seemed less to be dazed and instead anxieties were put on end, raised like they had not wanted this happen but anticipated their wants as not turning out, but he felt the hope they _had_ had die. Fear, however, was clear and nearly palpable. It was as near a taste as the coppery tang in his mouth that came when he’d bit his tongue, only now was the feeling returning to him, but even so his tongue felt strange and alien inside his numb mouth.

 

          It was then that he felt a pang, a sharp feeling outside of his body as a concentration of light seemed to fly past him, burning the darkness inside of him. He could not see this light, not at first, until it manifested itself in the hands of those vague figures, all but the one who called a name.

          He shoved himself backwards, feeling his shoulders knock against the wall. When he slid his hand back, he felt the edge of a door. He could hear words being spoken to him, but they flew over his head which only resounded with the steady beating of his heart that accelerated at an ever faster pulse.

          He didn’t know what he was doing in that moment, only that his hand managed to find the door knob and turn it, and he threw himself through the door. He scrambled onto his feet and through another door. His feet led him to a spiraling staircase without railings and nothing to hold it up, and swiftly tossed himself over the edge.

          He fell for some time and landed with a thud, rolling back onto his feet and through yet another door.

          He knew he was being chased, though. He didn’t look behind him, running towards the edge. There was nothing but a long fall into a hazy sea of gold, but he knew he could not be there. Still, though, he stopped briefly at the edge if only to consider what next.

          Without really thinking he smacked the button on his armored left arm and felt a familiar comfort, but also the lingering feeling of death entombing him in a non-living form. Nevertheless, he was just about to take a running leap on the edge when something pulled his gaze behind himself.

          It was the first vague figure – a confusing blend of white and blue that spoke to him. They were quite close, almost close enough that in but a few more strides they would close enough to grab his hand.

          He leapt off the edge, dropping through the air like a stone. A vision flashed into his mind, scorching and searing like a hot poker had been pressed through his skull.

 

          “Today you will be learning how to use your keyblade-gliders” a familiar voice spoke, warm and caring but roughened by time. “Terra, stand here for me, please.”

          He did so, stepping in front of his master and waiting further instruction.

          “Now, both of you already know how to summon your armor – if you will.”

          He was under his dark visor once more, and Aqua did the same.

          “For this you may want your helmets off, simply to give yourself better vision in the meantime.” With that, he removed his helmet and handed it to his master, who set it down beside him.

          “Alright, turn around.”

          He did so, and after long moment of anticipation that truly was only perhaps half a minute, Master Eraqus pushed him harsh on the back and he went flying off the edge into the green valleys of the Land of Departure, screaming the whole way down.

 

          It was terrifying then, but now he knew exactly what to do. With ease his glider came to him and he guided himself up the cliff side, soaring above the strange tower and then quickly away. He did not know where he was going, only that he was out of there.

          Despite the speediness of his escape, he could not help but feel something telling him to go back, but he didn’t trust his heart to tell him where to go. But, the farther he got away, the more ‘snow’ seemed to fill his vision, the colder he felt. His nerves had stopped stinging with pain and had turned numb.

          He was sinking, drowning, falling away into darkness once more. First came terror which flashed like lightning, but then came thunder – rage swelled and rolled into a storm. There was no clarity in it but it drove him faster, farther, even as a ring of darkness closed in on his vision. He saw it then, not too far away – a train, it looked like. He didn’t care much for what it was or where it was going, but he flew to it.

          His glider gave way, turning to nothing and for a brief moment he fell through the air. He did not anticipate it, but his hand latched onto a hanging bar and would not let go for anything.

          With his remaining strength he pulled himself up and inside, but soon after the deep darkness of sleep overtook his exhausted mind as any feeling had numbed his senses so deeply it felt like he would never feel again.

          But, he knew what that was like.

 

          When he awoke, he was lying inside a train car. He had since lost his armor – how he didn’t recall – but nothing hurt. To test, he rubbed the tips of his fingers together and was relieved no massive stinging pain shot up his arm nor remained as sensory ‘fuzz’. His head felt, well, normal except the confusion.

          He did not know where he was, where he’d come from, what his name was, how old he was – nothing. The first thing he tried was to look himself over – pull up the hem of his pants to see if a name was inside, the inside collar of his shirt for the same. Nothing indicated anything, except upon looking around the car he found he was… very out of place.

          No feelings of embarrassment warmed his cheeks, it only served to confuse him. He obviously wasn’t from here (wherever that was) but that told him nothing about himself.

          He took in a deep breath and departed when the train stopped, loosely following behind some people who seemed to know where they were going. Stepping outside, he felt a sensation against his face. It was enough to make him pause and figure out what it was – upon deliberation, he realized it was the sun and moved on.

          With that, he turned sharply right, leaving the train station. A few gazes drew to him, but he remained indifferent, instead looking for someone to ask perhaps. Someone who wasn’t staring. He moved rather aimlessly, though, getting a feel for where he was and looking for any sort of name.

          A more friendly looking gentleman told him he was in Twilight Town, not that he knew where that was, but he thanked the man and was about to move on when the man grabbed his arm. His first instinct was to rip his arm back and punch him in the mouth, but he did no more than tense.

          The man, with a concerned look on his face, asked him if something was wrong, why was he out of school? But he had no reply. He didn’t stutter but instead said he didn’t go to ‘school’ anymore and walked off quickly before he could be questioned further.

          His hasty retreat didn’t bring him well, however, as his thought-train had been stopped by the interaction and he felt a distinct confusion lay over his brain. Where was he again?

          He decided it was time to find somewhere to sit and meditate on this, finding a bench to sit on. He checked himself once over again, but nothing became clearer upon a second examination. He did notice while checking the inside of his shoe, however, a boy walked over with a puzzled look on his face.

          “Afternoon, uh, sir.”

          He looked up, but said nothing. The boy seemed to press his lips into a thin line, sweating slightly.

          “You look a little lost. What’s your name?”

          He looked away, choosing his words with care. What had the blue and white person called him? “Terra.”

          “Well, hello… Terra, I’m Pence. I was wondering if you needed help.”

          He thought for a moment, “It would be appreciated. Could you tell me where I am? What time it is?”

          “It’s noon and you’re in Twilight Town.”

          He searched his mostly blank memory and found nothing, of course, but it was worth a shot.

          “Could you maybe help me, now?”

          He said nothing, but did not object.

          “Er… okay, well I need to get to school. I woke up late today and I missed the train. Could you maybe help walk me there? It’s a long way and I don’t like walking there alone.”

          The boy looked to be anywhere from thirteen to fifteen. Of course he’d walk him, wherever ‘school’ was.

          “You will have to lead, but I will go with you.”

          Pence sighed heavily, wiping the sweat off his brow, “thanks man.”

          The boy spared him conversation, walking silently by his side for a majority of the trip, up until they grew closer and the school was in sight.

          “Hey, after school do you want to hang out with me and my friends? I know we just met but ―”

          “I will be there. When does school end?”

          “Three o’clock – thanks again, Terra.”

          He nodded and left. He almost lifted his arm to wave goodbye, but didn’t go to. He walked the length of the hill down, and with nothing to do he found another bench to sit in and wait out the rest of the day.

          That was the plan at least, until another child appeared before him. This one did not seem afraid however.

          “Are you sleeping on the bench?” he asked, voice oozing with the sort of self-preening confidence that did not bother him only by virtue that this was a child.

          “No, waiting” he said slowly, eyes following the two behind the child. One was rather tall, the other small and composed.

          The child hummed, acting very obviously in disbelief. “For what?”

          “It to be three o’clock.”

          The child squinted, thinking about all the things having to do with three o’clock. “What? Are you waiting for school to be over so you can go home?” he said with an accusatory look.

          “No, I’m waiting for Pence.”

          The two behind him looked at each other, and the child scratched his head.

          “What could you want with Pence?”

          “I don’t think that’s your business” he said with a particular bite.

          The children recoiled a bit, but didn’t back down.

          “No need to snap, dude, just askin’ questions. Some weird stuff happened last year, ya know?” the tallest child in the back said.

          The biting anger stayed in his throat this time, but he couldn’t control the look on his face. Or perhaps he didn’t feel like it.

          The child who addressed him nodded, then extended his arms out, “I’m Seifer, that’s Rai, and this is Fuu, and we’re the Disciplinary Committee. If I were you, I wouldn’t bother with Pence or his friends. They’re all trouble.”

          He felt skepticism already begin in the base of his chest, but let the child go on. No need to expend energy contradicting, not yet at least.

          “Alright.”

          The children walked off for the time being, leaving him to pass the time. It struck him, however, he had no way of knowing when three o’clock was, and so he got up to walk after the little gang.

          They appeared to have headed for the train station, and nearly didn’t notice that he’d caught up. When he’d stepped quickly in front of Seifer, they almost looked a little surprised.

          “You got a problem?’ Seifer pronounced, puffing himself up.

          “When is three o’clock?”

          The trio stared at him blankly, then Seifer laughed heartedly. Rai joined in and Fuu seemed equally amused, despite not laughing.

          “I’m serious.”

          They stopped laughing, mouths gaped open.

          “You read the – the… what’re they called? On the clock?”

          “Hands” Fuu answered.

          “Hands?” he asked.

          Seifer turned and pointed to the high tower above. “The straight pointy parts. The long one is minutes, the short one is hours. For the hour hand each line is the number of hours, for the minute hand its five minutes. It’s about one right now.”

          He nodded, and an idea popped into his mind.

          Walking towards the tower, he thought little of scaling it. It was fairly simple – leaping from hand-hold to hand hold. Sometimes it took a little more thought, especially the higher he rose – at one point he swung his whole body in an arc and used his legs to pull him up – but he did so with relative ease. It took him quite a while, but he did reach the top.

          Looking out over the town, he got a better view of the sea sparkling in the distance. Standing there, however, he felt something… linger in the spot he stood on. A feeling, the barest expression of a feeling, but the sadness was so deep and wounded that he could feel it, even if it was no more than breath on the wind.

          His thoughts were interrupted when the three burst onto the scene, panting heavily,

          “What was that all about!? Were you trying to get yourself killed?” Seifer proclaimed loudly.

          “I knew what I was doing.”

          “There are stairs, ya know!” Rai threw his hands out.

          “Just walk down with us at least, would ya?” Seifer commanded, not that the command moved him much on a status level.

          “Fine” he said.

          The walk down the long staircase was filled mostly with Seifer chewing him out, with Rai agreeing occasionally adding a “ya know” for good measure and Fuu not saying much of anything. Something something, had to get the keys to the staircase from someone, had to run up so many stairs.

          After the keys were returned, Seifer sighed and said he’d “let this go this time” and walked off.

          He puffed a little air out his nose and a small smile crossed his face, but only briefly. He looked up to find it was almost three now.

          With an hour to spare, he walked around some more and eventually found his original bench, the one Pence had found him on, and sat down. He made sure, this time, to memorize what he’d done. Met four children named Pence, Seifer, Rai and Fuu. He climbed a tower, which apparently he wasn’t supposed to do, he learned that the minute hand was the long one and the hour hand was the short one, that he was in Twilight Town,

          And his name was Terra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: Added The Art(tm)  
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pence's new friend is kind of weird. Really weird. The sort of weird that makes you back off by a foot -- maybe a couple of feet.

            “So, you’re Terra.”

            “Yes.”

            Hayner gave the tall guy a look over. Pence talked about him during class when they were kind-of supposed to be working on the lab, but whatever they were done already. From his description, he’d gotten a semi-accurate image of this guy in his mind.

            He was pretty tall and built like a fridge. It did nothing to help his menace in that his face was frozen in a scowl, but he didn’t detect much animosity otherwise. What did trouble him was those eyes, which he couldn’t stand to look at for longer than a few moments. Something about them hurt his brain, like, physically. The burning blue irises seemed to want to poke a hole through him. That and the  silver-white hair – something about it troubled him.

            Other than that though, he seemed okay. Mostly. Pence liked him, and Olette was slowly forming her own opinions but so far seemed alright. He himself didn’t have much to go against besides the fact that Terra’s presence unnerved him in a couple of ways, but he did walk Pence all the way to school so that earned him a point in his favor

            “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have an older kid in our group – if you’d like that is” he picked the words he’d used carefully. Something about this guy felt like a spring trap.

            Terra said nothing, but neither did he seem to disagree. Pence had told him he did that earlier, so maybe it was a yes?

            “We gotta study tonight, but we were planning on going to library to do it. Wanna come with?” Pence offered.

            “Yes.”

            He couldn’t detect unpleasantness from the phrasing, it was just so… solid and succinct he almost didn’t know what to say to that. So he said nothing, marching out of the usual spot and towards the library.

 

            Well, studying didn’t really end up being what they did. It was more goof-off-in-the-library. It was pretty fun, walking around and pulling out all the books with weird titles. They started off pretty good, pulling out notes and comparing answers on the review, but inevitably despite Olette’s best efforts, they all just got bored and even her own etiquette gave way to more interesting ways to spend time.

            Terra followed behind, however upon standing still he seemed to… almost disappear into the background. It wasn’t that he turned invisible, or something, and he was aware that Terra was there, but it felt… really easy for him to slip to back of his mind. It was kind of weird since whenever he did make his presence known it seemed almost like he was _too_ present.

            Whatever, though, because _“The Mechanical Baby”_ was being put into the Really Weird Books journal, along with _“Teach Your Wife to Be a Widow”, “The Joy of Chickens”_ , _“CROCHETING ADVENTURES WITH HYPERBOLIC PLANES”_ – there were lots. It was really fun combining the names, such as _“Crocheting with the Mechanical Baby”_ , and when they were done with that they just wandered around the shelves and pulled out whatever and read a random passage, sometimes read plainly sometimes with funny voices.

            Pence made a good effort to involve Terra, but he seemed to be content with sitting back and watching, or pulling out his own books.

            When it came time to go home, the young man walked with them. Hayner’s house was the farthest away, and so they walked to the apartment building as dusk laid over the town. He dug his hands into his pockets, thinking about the individual besides him.

            It felt like – he felt so… it gave him a similar feeling to a burned forest. So still and silent, everything having been stripped away. Land scarred and blackened and paled with ash and soot. Smoldering with resentment towards nothing in particular. Or perhaps, it was like a blizzard in a forest. Everything gripped in great white silence, heavy snow falling but producing no sound and so thorough in its cover it seemed to have no motion. Icy and barren.

            But there was something warm to his presence, something kind. He just didn’t know what.

            “So, where do you live?”

            “…nowhere.”

            “Terra, you can tell me.”

            “I don’t have anywhere to sleep.”

            He frowned, pushing his lips to one side, then the other, then back again. He supposed it made sense, well. It made sense in its nonsense, if that made sense. Terra seemed at once incredibly smart and really dumb too. Dumber than Rai and Saifer combined, kind of dumb. Sure, he could count, but that was about it when they asked for help on homework. He did have a lot of connective knowledge, though, as soon as something got explained to him, like he could ask questions in such a careful way that led them to their own answer. Maybe he got hit, like, really… really hard in the head.

            He knew he couldn’t just let the guy wander around all night though, so in that moment he made a decision.

            “My brother’s not using his room. You can stay with me, c’mon.”

            He marched through the apartment doors and upstairs. He greeted his mom and made his way quickly into his brother’s room, leaving no time for his mother to stop him.

            “You’re probably gonna want to change. Here, let me get you some of my brother’s stuff” he ducked away into the small closet, rifling through the old clothes. It smelled a bit like an attic, but it’d work.

            He tossed it to Terra, who caught it without giving it much thought. Hayner left the room for a moment.

            “Have a friend over, sweetie?” his mom called from the small kitchen.

            “Yeah, Mom” he called back.

            He’d think of a way to explain this to her later, but for now this would do.

            After giving a few minutes, he knocked and swung the door open. Terra was patting down the shirt he’d been given. It was a little old and a little small – a grey t-shirt with some mountains on it and some black pants. He looked a little less unusual, at least.

            “Thank you, Hayner.”

            The words caused a pang of surprise, but he didn’t show it much. “No problem, I guess.”

            “No, thank you.”

            He nodded, “well, dinner’s gonna be ready in a sec. I hope you like oven pizza.”

            Terra nodded, so he supposed oven pizza was alright. Honestly, he’d have to agree -- oven pizza was _good_. So, Terra earned a point in his favor.

 

            It was Friday that next week, after school, and they’d decided to go for ice cream. He was surprised that Terra paid, but he supposed that it wasn’t like Terra just stood around all day waiting for them to be done with school for the past couple of weeks.

            He was beginning to like the arrangement they had going on – it was just him and his friends again, with no weird stuff going on. The ~Disciplinary Committee~ gave them a little trouble from time to time but backed off whenever Terra was around (probably because he was taller than any of them.) Terra seemed to just like having people to be around, which he couldn’t call a sin.

            He did notice something though – he was pretty sure Terra didn’t sleep. He guessed based on the sound he could just barely make out from the light in his brother’s room, which seemed to be on most nights. Maybe Terra was just afraid of the dark? If he had to be afraid of anything, he supposed…

            It showed, a bit. Not in fatigue, but around his eyes. A reddish coloration, that was also at the tips of his fingers too, around his knuckles. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a little concerned by it, but he also didn’t really want Terra to snap at him.

            Sure, he’d been nice so far, but it still kind of felt like two sheets of ice were coming together – grinding along the edges until one day they’d be pressed together and snap and break and tear with the sort of motion that sunk ships.

            That was just a feeling though, one that had proven… untrue.

 

            “Gah, I need to practice nail painting but I’ve already got my toes and hands” Olette grumbled.

            “Pch, I guess you’ll just have to wait—”

            “I’ll do it.”

            “Uh—oh? Well, thanks Terra.”

            Olette took Terra’s hand rather gently, but seemed very pleased with herself when she got to paint. She figured red was a good color.

            “None of the other boys would ever let me” she smiled wirily, looking up at Hayner and Pence.

            “Dudes don’t wear nail polish, Olette” he protested.

            “Red is the color of passion, rage. It’s a fine color.”

            Olette quirked her brow, but smiled, “tell em’, Terra.”

            He scoffed and turned back to Pence, giving him a look that asked _“Can you believe this?”_ but Pence simply shrugged. “Red _is_ a nice color.”

            He huffed and turned away.

            “So, Terra, what’d you do before you came to Twilight Town?” Olette asked pleasantly.

            “I don’t remember…”

            “Oh, that’s not good. Do you have a concussion or something? Rai got one over the summer when he slipped and hit his head on the dock.”

            “No, I don’t think I got hit”

            Hayner wasn’t paying much attention up until that point.

            “Do you live around here?”

            “No.”

            “Who’re your parents?”  
            “I don’t…” Hayner could feel the sort of grating thoughts grind to a halt inside Terra’s mouth. He wasn’t angry, but the lack of his knowledge frustrated him.

            “You don’t gotta answer if you can’t. We’ll figure this out.”

            Olette nodded, and the tension seemed to unravel with a heavy sigh.

            Terra mumbled a thank you, then shut off after that. He avoided their gazes with particular speed.

 

            That night, Terra said he'd be out late, which gave him a good opportunity to talk to his mom.

            He ushered her to the small circular table, sat down across and took a deep breath.

            He explained that he, Terra, had just about no idea who he was, and that he needed a place to stay. His Mom was a little troubled and said that sure, he could stay, but he'd need to at least get one (1) check up by a doctor just to make sure something wasn't wrong with him.

            Terra returned not long after that, and the conversation ended there.

His mother, entirely unperturbed by his strange disposition, quietly asked him to come to a doctor's appointment. He simply walked off, acknowledging her with a nod.

 

            When he went to go to sleep, the background drone of his brother's light fixture created a long, mind melting hum. It kept him awake, but only just barely.

            It was a little annoying, so he got up to finally tell him to shut it off. He was mad enough to stomp out of his room and across the hallway but he hesitated at the door. He turned it lightly, swinging it open with barely a creak

            He looked into the lit room to find Terra sitting on the floor facing the window.

            “What's up?” he asked, taking a seat beside him.

            Terra said nothing, but he was clearly awake.

            “What? Don't wanna talk? But you're such a chatterbox” he said with a sly smile.

            Terra glanced at him, but that was it.

            He frowned, “listen. I get it -- kind of. I don't know what it's like not to know who you are but you're okay here, okay? We're just worried a little.”

            Terra remained silent, but he tilted his head down to look at the floor.

            He sighed. “Well, I guess we'll just sit here then.”

            Silence made the time pass confusingly, maybe a few minutes passed, maybe an hour.

            “I'm just afraid is all. I spent a long time somewhere I don't want to be again.”

            He paused for a moment, “what, like jail?”

            “No. Well, perhaps. Not a real jail, but a prison of my own making. I don't really remember.”

            “Well, I don't know what that means, but you're free to stay here. My mom just wants to make sure you're not like, bleeding from your brain.”

            “Understandable.”

            He raised a brow. Was that a joke?

            “Can I ask a question?”

            “Yes.”

            “You don't talk a lot. Why? Are you, like, shy?”

            “No, I am not anxious of people” he said with a flat tone.

            “Then…?”

            He was quiet again for a while, “I don't feel the need to speak.”

            “Well how is anyone supposed to know what you mean when you're silent?”

            “They don't always need to know. If they cannot figure it out then there is no need to know.”

            “You don't seem to like people much.”

            He shrugged. "It is not a matter of liking them or not."

            “Well, alright, I guess. But can you turn off the light at least? It makes a noise when it's on.”

            “... I like it…”

            “You like it? It's the most annoying sound on earth right next to a phone left off the hook!”

            “It’s relaxing.”

            “... You are so weird.”

            It was then that a smile pulled across his face. It faded fast, but for a moment he could see the white of his teeth and something other than resentment in his eyes. A small, brief amount of happiness. It confused him immensely, but in a pleasant way.

            “Alright, well. How about this: school nights you turn it off, but any other time you can keep it on. That seem fair?”

            “Sure.”

            “And try to go to bed, dude. You look like you got hit by a truck.”

            “Alright.”

            He got up and left. The noise went away fairly soon after that, which made him smile a little bit as he drifted off to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After writing chapter 1 I immediately jumped to chapter 2, however do to upcoming stuff that's probably the fastest i'll ever update (I wrote this specifically bc I knew I was gonna be busy, to put in perspective.) But ye, this time from a different point of view.  
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	3. Chapter Amnesia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't like being poked and prodded.

            He didn’t mind working during the day, it wasn’t so bad. Take out junk, move stuff, deliver people things. A bit boring, but he knew it made those he’d been staying with happy when they got ice cream every so often.

            When there was no work to be done, he stayed at Hayner’s mother’s apartment and cleaned. He figured it was the polite thing to do.

            Then, at some time around three, he’d sit with the trio. Sometimes they all simply went home, sometimes not. He mostly sat and listened when they did stay around. They talked, they joked, they passed the time. It reminded him of something, but he couldn’t place what. It felt like it was at the tip of his fingers, just out of reach. A small memory just waiting to be plucked from the depths of all that he’d forgotten.

            He was grateful that none of them had pried too deeply as time drew on. Firstly, it wasn’t like they’d find anything, and secondly it irritated him. He didn’t know, that was his answer. That would always be his answer. It was pointless. It did nothing but remind him of how much he did not know, and though no embarrassment colored his cheeks, there was a shame that bubbled under the surface. He couldn’t place why exactly, but at the moment he found it was just so repetitive, such a waste of time.

 

            It was the next Thursday that this appointment he’d been called to was. He and Hayner’s mother rode in a train car to the office. She tried asking him a few questions but just like any other time, he had no answer to give. He did try to limit the crossness that bled through his voice, though, because she was a nice person who let him stay in her home and introduced him to the wonders of oven pizza.

            Hayner’s mother signed them in and then they sat down. She saw someone she knew and made light conversation, while not doing most of the talking she did steer the conversation away from herself for why she was there for as long as possible until her friend plainly asked her who he was.

            He was about to elect to be silent, but Hayner’s mother seemed prepared.

            “Ah, family from out of town. Just feeling a bit under the weather, have to get it checked out, you know? Can’t return him sick” she said, giving a darling smile.

            He took note of that, making eye contact with her friend only briefly before staring at the magazine in front of him and not reading it.

            The woman left, her daughter staring at him with big eyes and a lollipop in her mouth, not moving it nor her gaze even as they walked through the doors.

            “Thanks” he said quietly.

            “No problem, Terra.”

            She nodded and took a magazine for herself, flipping through it idly and occasionally showing him something stupid to laugh at. He wasn’t quite moved, but he appreciated the gesture and made a mild effort to give some kind of response.

            It was a little while after that that his name was called and they shuffled quickly through the door.

            They walked down a narrow hallway to a wider section and he was told to take off his shoes and stand against the wall. He did so, the woman making a comment about his height that made Hayner’s mother laugh a little, and then he was ushered to the scale.

            The woman scribbled a few things down, let him put on his shoes and moved him to another room. The heavy door clicked when it closed and he was told to sit on the tall plastic looking bed. He took note of the room – pretty much everything was white, except the bed was a sort of light blue-green color and it was covered in a white papery-looking thing that crinkled when he sat down. There was a framed painting of some mice and a stuffed bear.

            The woman washed her hands and looked at the chart, looking up at Hayner’s mother and nodding. It pricked his nerves a little, more towards suspicion than anger, but even so he was beginning to think he wasn’t going to like this.

            “So, Terra, this obviously isn’t a usual check-up, for now we’re just gonna make sure everything’s alright, alright?”  
            “Yes.”

            “Good, thank you.”

            Genuine, caring, but he could sense whatever was written down bothered her and so it bothered him – not in the same way.

            She went through what he assumed was mostly routine at first. She hit the tendon in his knee with a small mallet, she stuck a flat stick in his mouth and shined a light down his throat, checked his ears and then took his temperature. She rolled his hand over and took his pulse, used a cold metal dial to listen to his breathing and heart and wrapped something around his arm which tightened as she squeezed a balloon attached to it. He didn’t like the noise nor the feeling of all the blood rush back into his arm.

            She wrote a few things down, then sat in the spinny chair. She flipped a few things over in her clipboard, but purposefully tilted it out of his sight. She clicked her pen twice.

            “When did you get here?”

            “Noon, on a Monday.”

            “Last Monday?”

            “Three Mondays ago, Dr. Stiles” Hayner’s mother cut in.

            Doctor Stiles jotted it down. “Okay, Terra, so you’ve been in Twilight Town for a little over three weeks now. How did you get here?”

            “I took the train in.”

            “From?”

            “A tower.”

            She wrote that down too. “I want you to follow the tip of this pen, please – with your eyes, not your head, I mean” she laughed a bit at her own expense but it did nothing to endear herself.

            He didn’t react, just doing as told.

            After writing a few more things down, she looked back up at him. “Have you suffered any bouts of confusion? Gaps in memory besides not knowing anything prior to three weeks ago?”

            He thought for a moment. “Yes, but only on the first day, before I got on the train.”

            “Alright…” she said, extending the ‘t’ sound as she scribbled more things down. “What about physically? Headaches, nerve pain not caused by injury? Any bruising you don’t recognize?”

            “When I woke up before getting on the train, yes, but not since.”

            She twitched her mouth to one side, tapping her pen against her chin. “Alright… what specifically?”

            “I was cold and it hurt to touch things. I couldn’t tell what was up or down.”

            “How about your mood? Have you been depressed, paranoid? Auditory, sensory, visual hallucinations? Have you had any mood swings?”

            “No.”

            “…You seem rather closed off. Did something happen to you before you got here? Any traumatic events?”

            “I don’t remember” he felt his words grind over his teeth.

            She made a popping sound with her lips, which did nothing more to irritate him some more. She moved on fast, though, “any issues with knowledge based questions, i.e. if I asked you a geometry question, would you be able to answer it?”

            “Can I have an example?”

            “Sure, one second.” She pulled out a blank piece of paper and scribbled down a few things, drawing shapes and numbers. When she handed it to him, she spoke again, “you don’t need to give me an actual answer, just tell me how you’d figure it out.”

            He stared at the paper for a while. It was a triangle, there was a formula written in the top page corner, one leg was labelled with a number, and then in the corner of the triangle another number was given. There was another triangle that shared the first leg and he was supposed to find one of the lines on that one. There were some cross marks on similar looking lines from each.

            He squinted at the page for a long time. He felt like he could figure it out, but trying to put it all together in that moment only added to his frustrations and he decided against answering.

            “I… think I’d ask someone for help.” He handed the paper back.

            She had been writing things down quickly, so focused she almost didn’t notice that he’d handed to her.

            “Well, I suppose that’s one way of figuring it out.”

            It was in that moment his thought was _I never want to come back in here._

“Well, so far I can tell you this before we get a blood sample; nothing is wrong-wrong. The veins in your pupils are a little dilated but that’s about it. You’re actually pretty healthy besides the memory loss. I would suggest getting checked again at a higher up facility in order to get a spinal fluid tap just in case it’s some form of meningitis… which seems rather unlikely given the lack of other symptoms, but you never know. For now though, we’ll give you the blood results in a couple of days.”

            He was led out of that room and sat in another chair. A nurse walked in and dabbed a white cotton ball with something, then dabbed his arm with it. It tickled his nose.

            “You look like a tough-guy, so I guess you don’t need me to chatter to you” the nurse smiled, preparing the needle and setting it to his arm.

            Hayner’s mother and the doctor were on the opposite side of the wall, but with concentration he could hear them talking, blocking out the feeling of the needle being pushed into his skin.

            “I have no idea. This isn’t anything I’ve heard before, let alone seen. If it were a concussion his reaction times would be more delayed, and he would have responded to the light much more differently.”

            “So what should I do?”

            “Call around, see if anyone knows him. He could be a runaway. He might be lying”

            “He’s not that young though, if he’s a young adult who left his parents and something happened to him, what are they gonna do? And – it sounds like he took a train from out of town, so I don’t know… I don’t think he’s a liar, though. There’d be no reason for him to lie about that.”

            He heard the doctor hum. She didn’t believe Hayner’s mother. “For now just keep him with you, maybe call the train station and ask where the train was coming from that Monday. Call if something weird happens. His behavior is rather odd but it’s nothing I can put a pin on until the bloodwork comes back.”

            “Sorry dude, gotta do both arms,” his nurse said, poking the needle into his other arm.

            “It’s fine.”

            With his concentration broken, there was no point in trying to repair it. By the time he could focus again, their conversation would be over.

            Hayner’s mother rounded the corner and smiled at him, the same smile she’d given to her friend before. His eyes met her own, but he didn’t move his head.

            “And you’re good. What Band-Aids do you want? We got neon orange, CatMan, ones with horses and hearts on them, and some ones with puppies on them. Normal ones too, if you’re feeling lame” he said with a wide smile, genuine but better suited for someone perhaps a decade younger than him.

            “Puppies.”

            His nurse laughed and put two puppy Band-Aids over his arms. “Alright, have a nice day now.”

            He didn’t pay much attention while Mrs. Hayner talked to the clerk, instead thinking on what had been said about him. He also thought about if he wanted a lollipop or a sticker, deciding on a lollipop.

 

            “You’re not dying, that’s good” Hayner snarked at him.

            “Yes.”

            “You don’t sound that enthused about not dying” Pence noted.

            He noticed then that he’d been furrowing the lines on his face quite heavily, having thought deeply on the words of the doctor. He tried to relax the muscles in his face some.

            “I wasn’t worried about that in the first place.”

            “Yeah, _Mr. Climbed-the-Clock-tower_ just for fun” Seifer called, waltzing onto the scene.

            The three tensed, readying for a fight it seemed, but Terra didn’t make much a move. While the three took it seriously it felt like theatrics on Seifer’s part.

            “What do you want, _Seifer_?” Olette said with particular distain.

            Seifer wheeled around, hands in his pockets, “just checking in on you trouble-makers, I see you charmed another into your band.”

            “It’s not hard to realize you guys are jerks” Olette stated, putting her hands on her hips and lifting her chin up.

            “Yeah! And we didn’t charm him in” Pence added.

            “Oh yeah? What does _he_ have to say?” Seifer turned on his heels in front of him.

            Terra looked up, keeping his mouth closed for a moment. “You’re all… nice, in your own sorts of ways.”

            The four stared at him blankly.

            “Well. I guess that’s… an answer” Olette said after the silent moment passed.

            “I guess it’s true” Seifer said, folding his arms,

            “Psh, like _you’re_ nice” Hayner snapped back.

            “Not to you, no” Seifer huffed, “but Terra’s cool with me, so.”

            “Is it truly kindness if it’s conditional?”

            “Well damn dude…” Seifer cupped his jaw, thinking on it or perhaps taking it as a dig at himself.

            He shrugged again, turning his head back down to the book he’d been trying to read. Taken from the library for the specific purpose of trying to figure out what he could ‘put a pin on’ on his own. He’d worked his way to amnesia, concluding that was probably the most accurate way to describe his condition.

            There were a few types, but the one that stuck out to him most was called Dissociative Amnesia. It wasn’t caused by damage to the brain but instead an event. Repressed memory – he couldn’t recall any information – and dissociative fugue – the points of confusion if he didn’t specifically tell himself to remember something, making him wander for some time before the fog passed and he knew where he had to be. At least, that’s how he read it. The fugue was mostly just on that first day, but there had been a couple moments after – brief ones – where he’d had slight trouble.

            Still though, what could have been so terrible that he would throw himself wildly into memory loss he wasn’t even sure if his name was actually Terra? He knew that his first awakening was frantic and terrifying and he almost felt like he was dying, but that would imply –

            “Yo!” a set of fingers snapped in front of his face, “earth to Terra!–” Hayner asked

            “That seems kind of repetitive – “ _earth_ to _terra_ ”–?” Pence pointed out.

            “Yeah – but – anyway. You there, space cadet?”

            He frowned slightly.

            “Alright, message received to ground control.”

            “Ha, _ground_ control” Pence mused.

            Hayner shrugged and turned around to sit down.

            He paused for a moment, closing his book with a satisfying sound, and set it beside himself.

            “Have any of you seen a gold and purple train?”  
            “Nope” Pence said, going through the pictures of his camera.

            “Not that I can think of” Olette answered.

            “Hm… well, sometimes people say they see a ghost train, but I dunno if anyone’s said its purple.”

            He hummed, eyeing his book once more.

 

            “Supposed to be a storm sometime next week” Hayner’s mother said, looking outside the window from the kitchen table.

            “I hope not, but I guess summer’s gotta end sometime” Hayner sighed, stirring his fork through the noodles of his soup.

            “Well, I’ll get out the winter sheets and pillow cases soon. How’s that sound?”

            “Good, Mom” Hayner gave a short thumb’s up.

            “So then, what do you think of dinner, Terra?” her smile was warm, but something had been severed earlier that day. The seed of distrust was much like a dandelion – it grew easily and quickly.

            That did not mean he’d be cold to her, though, he knew she had good intentions but like how a dandelion grew without wicked intent. “It’s good. Thank you.”

            She nodded and looked back to her food, carrying on a proper conversation with her son.

 

            Lying there in the dark, he tried to carry back to his previous thoughts. It was difficult though – every series of thoughts he had were chained together, and when he was interrupted in forming those chains, they fell through his hands and he couldn’t seem to pick them up. Not quickly, at least.

            Something about… amnesia. Yes, he didn’t remember anything. But did he not know anything before or after the tower? At that time of his awakening, he hadn’t really had the faculties to consider anything he wanted to know now.

            Unfortunately it wasn’t like he could ask his past self what he knew. Perhaps what troubled him more of this fact was the small itch in the back of his mind asking that perhaps he did not exist at all. There was no past to go back to, no one to wonder where he was.

            He supposed that would make some sense, given those people-shaped-things who seemed ready to fight him the moment he woke up, in pain and confused.

            He wanted to be angry, but the feeling would not rise from his chest, only stir and mix into a broad, dull sense of discomfort.

            Perhaps that was why his trains of thought were not so easily picked up. Perhaps he was purposefully trying not to remember.

            This thought troubled him more and did not lend itself easily to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE another chapter. But this is like, actually probably it until the weekend, maybe, however I may go back and edit in the mean-time (not content changes but like. Grammar stuff because I type too fast and when I delete/add stuff in sometimes it doesn't work as well as I thought the first couple of read throughts.) Cya'll until then!  
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	4. Chapter Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rarely is it that a storm brings anything good, but the rain does wash away all the things that would otherwise be obscured by dust.

            He banged on the door. It shook a little with each knock of his fists.

            “How long does it take to take a shower?!” he shouted through.

            The sound of the water wouldn’t be enough to drown out his voice, he hoped, because he certainly wasn’t going to barge in yet.

            He left the hallway and walked into the living room. His mom was about to finish packing her lunch, throwing in an apple for good measure.

            He paused for a second, then spoke with a tone of total sincerity; “do you think he’s using your shampoo?”

            His mother laughed hard, almost doubling over for a second, regaining her composure quickly but hovering her hand over her mouth. “If he wants to keep that pretty silver color I suppose so, it is dye-sensitive”

            “Psh, you’re too young to be dyeing your hair” he said, taking her purse off the couch-side table and handing it to her.

            “Mm, unfortunately the grey hairs say otherwise”

            “Pfft, whatever. Have a nice day at work”

            “Thank you sweetie” she leaned over and before he could escape gave him a kiss on the forehead, then walked out the door. Before she left completely, she stuck her head through the doorway to warn him, “Make sure the storm windows are closed all the way. Don’t do anything reckless, love you!”

            He waved her goodbye and turned around towards the bathroom again, knocking on the door once more. He listened for any sort of response, but that was too much to ask apparently.

            “If you don’t say anything on the count of five I’m gonna assume you fell and hit your head or something. If I come in and you’re naked it’s your fault!”

            He counted a little fast but whatever. Swinging the door open, he was slightly relieved to learn that no, Terra was not a bloody pile on the floor, second that he wasn’t naked. In fact Terra was standing with his pants on, frowning greatly as he turned to look at Hayner.

            “What the heck dude?” he asked, voice getting a little whiny.

            “I couldn’t figure out how to turn it off.”

            “You just… turn it… and press it down. How did you turn it on in the first place?”

            Terra made a flat face at him and turned around to do so.

            What Hayner was not expecting to see was what looked like a massive tattoo down his spine. It was red, like, bright red. Painted down his spine with thinner lines that stretched out where just about where his ribs were, but those were much less apparent. He didn’t really know what it was though, but with a little more thought, he realized it looked a lot like the pictures of the nervous system in his textbook, including the little tooth-like branches from the spinal cord. It was a little morbid, if he was being honest. That and it didn't really look like a tattoo, but he wasn't really sure what else he'd call it.

            Putting his fist to his chin, he poked him in the back.

            Terra flinched, pulling back sharply and yelping, whipping around to scowl at him.

            “I’m doing what you told me. Why can’t you leave me alone?”

            “Cus you’re taking too long. Just let me show you” he huffed, bending over and flicking it off. “There, ain’t rocket science.”

            Terra rolled his eyes.

            “Don’t sass me. And put a shirt on!”

            Though no words came out of Terra’s mouth, the sound that did was somewhere between exasperation, annoyance, and a particular brand of “I can’t believe you right now.”

            “What’s with the tattoo, by the way?” he asked as Terra pulled a shirt over his head.

            “Tattoo?” he asked.

            At first he thought Terra was just pulling his leg, but when he looked at his face he saw that he was genuinely confused.

            “Uh, yeah, it’s massive. How have you not seen it?”

            “I don’t have eyes on the back of my head.”

            “Yeah, but it’s like, your entire back.”

            Terra looked at him skeptically and pulled off his shirt again, wiping the steam off the tall mirror and facing away from it, looking behind himself.

            Pulling his shirt back over his head, he spoke, “I didn’t know that was there.”

            Hayner tilted his head, furrowing his eyebrows a bit.

            “Weird.”

 

           

            “Did you understand that test?” he winced, cringing hard.

            “No” Pence mumbled miserably, pouting.

            Olette shrugged, “I got the first part, but part two wasn’t worded that well.”

            He threw his hands in there air, “that’s what I thought!”

            “I’m gonna run off into the woods and live there forever if it means I never have to look at another essay question again.”

            “Pence, you like your computer too much to do that.”

            “It’s true but _I feel it_.” Pence pressed his fists into his chest, looking off into the sky whimsically.

            He and Olette laughed.

            They walked down the hill for a while when he realized something. He looked around, behind and then around again, then stopped.

            Pence and Olette turned back to face him. “What is it?” Olette asked, leaning a book against her leg.

            “You guys see Terra?”

            “Uh, no, actually. I didn’t realize he wasn’t here” she answered, shifting her weight to the other leg.

            “I didn’t actually think about that…” Pence’s voice trailed off.

            He felt a little guilty then, having given him a hard time earlier that day, but also at just how easy it was to forget him. It wasn’t even like he didn’t want him around, but he was just so quiet and lingering that his brain just decided at will to forget he was there. Still though, it made him feel a bit bad.

            “You don’t think he got lost?” Pence offered.

            “Not after a couple of weeks, no.”

            “Hm” Olette tapped her chin. “Maybe he just stayed home?”

            He shook his head. “No, he didn’t say he had anything to do today.”

            Pence tapped his index finger against his chin. “Maybe he just forgot?”

            “Maybe…”

 

            By the time they’d went their separate ways, the sky had turned ashen grey. A wash of greyish tones, not that thunder rumbled yet, but a heavy wind was already whipping across the town. It wasn’t strong enough to blow anyone over, or anything, but tree branches waved frantically, leaves flipping over to their silvery undersides. Sea birds roosted earlier than normal, their cries echoing from underneath the rooves of buildings and the docks so far away.

            He could see the sea had turned a dark greenish blue from where he stood, by the train station. From what he knew, it was mostly likely already choppy and rough. He could imagine the sound of waves slamming against the shore, heralding the oncoming storm with great enthusiasm.

            He wouldn’t be out long, he told himself, he just needed to make sure Terra wasn’t, like, dead somewhere or lost. And he wasn’t that far away, anyway, if worst came to worst he’d just stay in the train station for a while.

            So he wandered a bit, looking here-there-everywhere and Terra was nowhere to be seen. He almost didn’t believe it—he’d have thought that with his height and platinum white hair he’d be easy to spot, but he guessed not.

            While a little anxiety began to build in the bottom of his chest, he did imagine that playing hide-and-go-seek with Terra would’ve probably been impossible. The thought of Terra trying to fit, like, behind some bushes or something was hilarious. He was also certain that upon being discovered the first thing he’d do would scowl. His face wasn’t always that expressive, except when he was mad, like that scowl. It was strong enough to make him a little worried when they first met, but as time went on it was more funny than anything, mostly because he knew Terra didn’t really mean it in an aggressive way.

            The wind changed abruptly, causing him to lift his head and halt his thoughts. As he did, the first rain drop hit his cheek, and then more followed. It wasn’t a downpour quite yet, but the storm was coming in fast.

            He made his way towards home, through the empty streets. Of course he’d be as far away as possible, though he’d figured he’d had more time to loop back around. If he got there and Terra was just home, though, he’d be mad. Not really at him but more just at the energy wasted looking.

            As he started to jog back, though, he got an uncomfortable feeling. At first he figured it was just nerves – it being all dark and windy, but it became more a feeling of dread. Something deep inside him was telling him to move anywhere that wasn’t there, but he couldn’t figure out why.

            He stepped into the Sandlot, slowing down to only catch his breath, when in the center, the air began to distort. It pulled in on a specific point and then a dark aura expanded from that came a dark hooded figure. The figure looked both ways, then directly at him. The uncomfortable energy in the air felt almost like electricity, and without words they returned the way it came. The doorway did not close, and strange beings crawled out. They looked to be made of darkness, little shambling figures that reminded him of a doll, and then larger ones that seemed much more unsettlingly human.

            “Holy shit” the words flew out of his mouth, which he slapped his hand over.

            It was too late, as the dark beings’ eyes of gold turned to him, unblinking and empty.

            He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, having the slight advantage of time, but he could feel these creatures almost nipping at his heels. He did not dare look back.

            He turned sharp down a road that led to the back alley into the underground, taking a hard right and then quickly down the long hallway, to his left. When he was about to turn and take the tunnel-way out, more dark creatures appeared and he kept forward, going the length of the hallway, running in a zig-zag motion through the tunnels in a desperate attempt to get them even a little off his back.

            He nearly leapt into Station Heights, heart pounding. Without a moment’s breath, he took a right and realized he’d more or less made a giant loop. The only other place to go was the Tram Commons because it wasn’t like he could take the _train_ away.

            Regardless, he ran to the commons and inevitably looped back to the Sandlot. More and more dark creatures tailed him, and he realized why as soon as he arrived; the dark portal was still open.

            Thunder rippled across the sky.

            He was surrounded. There was nowhere to run to, maybe climb – but he wasn’t strong enough. It didn’t mean he’s accept his fate (whatever it’d be) but the fear had raised to terror and there was nothing he could do about it except kick and scream and get knocked on his ass.

            He couldn’t get up, not as his head throbbed after hitting the pavement. He shut his eyes tightly waiting for whatever these creatures had in store for him.

            Just as he accepted this, he felt himself be yanked off the ground and thrown over someone’s shoulder. By reflex, his eyes shot up and lifting himself slightly, he saw that it was Terra.

            He looked up and saw a mass of the shambling creatures running after them.

            “Go go go go go!” he shouted, gritting his teeth.

            The words were needless as Terra did appear to be running as fast as he could. He banked right, turning the corner and then sprinted towards a building. He braced himself for whatever crazy thing Terra was about to do, but nothing could have prepared him for the high leap off the ground that the young man performed, gripping onto the ledge of a building.

            Hayner turned his body and pushed himself onto the terrace, stumbling back a few steps. He watched Terra lift himself up, swinging his whole body onto the ledge.

            While he caught his breath, he felt the chill of the rain beginning to get to him as soon as he stood under the lip of the roof. It felt like the wet and cold had soaked all the way to his bones. Chattering his teeth, he rubbed both arms with his hands rapidly.

            “You’ll freeze, take this” Terra said, pulling off his coat and more or less throwing it at him before stepping towards the ledge.

            “Hold on, wait. What are you going to do?”

            “Stay here. I’ll come back for you when this is over.”

            “Wait  ̶ ”

            But the breath was wasted as Terra disappeared over the ledge.

            He watched Terra run back towards the Sandlot. There was a part of him that wanted to chase after, but he couldn’t seem to get his feet to move. He also had no idea how to get down from there.

            He sat down under the roof, watching the rain come down in sheets. He pulled the greatly less soaked coat over his shoulders, the sleeves far too long for his arms. This wasn’t the first time that he’d worn his brother’s coat, and it’d always been for a similar reason. Maybe it was raining, or it was cold at night. He’d whack the sleeves around, slapping people and things and he thought it was the funniest thing on earth. His brother laughed at him, too. He’d always said that one day, Hayner’d be big enough to wear it, and when that day came he could have it.

            He furrowed his brow, looking at the sky. It rumbled and rolled with anger, like a sea of furious clouds. Thunder clapped and boomed, making him flinch. What was Terra gonna even do? Hit the monsters with a stick? Hope they got struck by lightning? If they were anything like those ‘Dusks’ (what Sora called them) then there wasn’t much he, nor anyone, could do.

            He stood up, but stopped. Nope. Nope. He wasn’t going to do it. He wasn’t gonna leave that building, he was going to do exactly what he’d been tol―

 

            After a bit of maneuvering and more or less sliding down the wall, he was on the street again. He flipped the hood over his head and ran after Terra, however as he neared the Sandlot he slowed down, shimmying against the walls and stopping every so often to listen. The little creatures from before didn’t make much a noise, except something like a jingling sound, but they were otherwise silent.

            That thought made him pause for a second, but there was no time to dwell.

            Turning his head towards the lot, he found it was empty. Cautiously he walked out, looking around. If there was one thing he hated about being a person was the total weakness of peripheral vision, the fact he had to turn his whole body around if he wanted to look behind himself. It made him feel incredibly vulnerable, especially since he was alone.

            “What are you doing out in the rain, Hayner?”

            He shrieked, leaping away and throwing his hands over his face in a weak attempt to protect himself.

            “AH—wait, Vivi? What are you doing out in the rain?” he asked, lowering his guard down.

            “I like to catch the frogs when they come out. Since its so late in the year this is probably the last time.”

            “Aren’t you worried about lightning?”

            “I’m not really a telephone pole, am I?”

            He chuffed, smiling a little, but it faded quickly. “Have you seen Terra, or a bunch of monsters?”

            “Monsters? Like those monsters that attacked Saifer last year?”

            He shook his head. “Kind of, but these are different. There’s a lot more of them, and they’re, like, made of… shadows? I guess? They look like you, except smaller,” he said, making a shrinking motion with his hands, “and not nice.”

            Vivi nodded, “I don’t think I have, but I’ll help you look.”

            They began their search, walking towards the train station as it was the only place they could go.

            “Who’s Terra, by the way? I’ve only heard about him from Saifer.”

            “What’d Saifer say?”

            “Well, mostly something about how Terra said something like _‘It’s not kindness if it’s conditional’_ and he’d been thinking about that for about three days straight”

            Hayner snorted.

            “What?”

            “Yeah, Terra said that. He’s kind of weird like that sometimes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. This is weird. I don't think I've ever updated... literally Anything this fast before. Though it may be because each chapters only just under 3,000 words (about 8-9 pages with 1.5 setting). But I'm like,,, 95% certain this is It for a little while.  
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	5. Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doubt begins to creep. Power that was once held seems locked away just like memories, but are those memories truly worth going after?

            “I don’t understand what went wrong.”

            A long pause. Stirring, mixing thoughts. Meditation. “I fear there was interference from a source unforeseen.”

            “Do you think it was Xehanort?”

            “No. Xehanort does not _run_ ” she said with a firmness that would not be challenged.

            More thinking. More searching through the timeline of events. “Terra would have been significantly weakened upon his heart’s return to his body. Something may have very well stolen the opportunity before he got his bearings.”

            “So what does that mean? Is he lost again?”

            “No…” the old man stroked his beard, “but control will not be so easily wrested back to him. His will is strong, but I fear that his body may not hold out long enough for that, though.”

            “His body?”

            “I sensed no heart within that _thing_ , whatever it was. It’s not the same as a Dusk, or any other nobody for that matter, however – it will continue for as long as it can… A body controlled by nothing has none but its own previous momentum to drive itself forward. but I fear eventually with will run out of whatever kept it going in the first place. I have no doubts that the consequences for Terra will be much worse if we allow this to happen.”

            A dread filled the room. Fear and anxiety mixing together like a storm cloud, ambiguity muddling those feelings even further.

            “So what do we do?” she asked, voice grave.

            “First we must locate it, which will take some time as its true presence is only tangential to this reality. Second… I do not believe it will so easily give back its new found form.”

            “New found?”

            “If it has no heart, no body of its own – simply filling an empty container – then it is somehow _less_ than a nobody. Something that borders so close to nonexistence does not possess the merit to maintain a form, not one of its own design.”

* * *

 

            Terra tentatively moved a hand behind his back, hesitating as it drew closer to his spine. Something told him that this was a poor idea, but he couldn’t stop himself from disregarding the most obvious fact that he needed to know what this mark was.

            He felt a sharp electric jump go through his spine that made him jolt upright. It felt like something had pinched him inside his vertebrae, and that feeling jumped from the point of origin to where his head and neck came together. The volt seemed to dissolve out to the rest of his head, to his face which made it feel numb. It also created a strange feeling in his limbs – almost like they weren’t his. When he tried to grab the hand he’d reached back with, it had the sensation of two different people trying to grab the other’s wrist, and the fine-point motions like picking up small things flew out the window as he just couldn’t seem to get control of his own digits, which more and more did not seem like his.

            It felt nearly dreamlike, picking himself off the kitchen chair and walking to the bathroom once more. His feet hit the ground, but he did not feel them, instead it seemed as though another was moving his legs for him. He knew how he moved only by the fact that he could see that movement.

            He pushed the door open with his elbow, the sense of falling hitting him even though he was upright.

            Not entirely sure of what else to do, he turned on the faucet and splashed the water against his face in the hopes the shock of cold would at least put some feeling back into it. He was relieved that it felt like the cold was hitting him, that the water was dripping down his chin.

            He did that for a long time, it felt, until he could fully feel his face once more and his hands began to sting with the rush of cold water against them. Rubbing his eyes, he breathed deeply, slowly raising his head so as to not undo the careful work he had done by jostling his brain somehow.

            That came undone when he looked into the mirror, gasping but then holding the breath in and falling back. His reflection did not move to meet him, though, instead standing and seething at him. His twin’s hair was brown though, and his eyes less violently blue but even so fumed with rage. Dark and foreboding, unmoving as they stared into his own. Standing in the mirror, the shadows seemed starker on his twin. He stood slightly turned away, but his head was stone still, tilted down slightly to look down at him.

            He rubbed his eyes and found he was alone. It did nothing to comfort him.

 

            The mark was gone, but left in its place was a never-ending numbness. Something dull and pulsing like a healing wound, but one he could not see nor truly feel. The absence of feeling, rather, alerted him only to its being there earlier that day.

            He could not help but think of his doppelganger in the mirror. He looked tired, almost more tired than he did, but with a glower that did well to match his own. It shook him a little, to have it directed at himself, but perhaps it was more so that his double existed at all.

            He scratched the back of his neck, feeling his fingers make contact with his skin and then disappear, only to reappear on the other side. He didn’t like the feeling of his own fingers on his skin. Something about it felt strange now, like he was breaking some kind of rule or was somewhere he shouldn’t have been.

            So he got up to leave, grabbing a coat off the rack and locking the door behind him, then left the apartment building. Briefly did it help make him feel less like a trespasser, but that was only for a few short moments. The feeling lingered high in his chest and did not budge.

            Perhaps it was the storm, which gathered high above and turned the sky ashen grey, dark and fuming. Despite the dangers that came with it – how the wind wracked the trees, how the birds shuddered and hid under the rooves, how the people scuttled inside –he felt less and less like he was in an unfamiliar place. There was something that reminded him of somewhere else, somewhere from before. Before what, he didn’t know, but there was something slightly comforting in that there was _somewhere_ from before, that perhaps there was somewhere he did not feel unwelcome.

            Though, the likelihood of that being a real place was doubtful.

 

            He mostly wandered, with nothing better to do. He took note of the little things that he’d failed to notice before – either by design or by distraction – but none of which stuck with him for long. The way the leaves flipped over to reveal their silvery undersides in the gale. The hushing of the birds as he passed under their roosts. It simply wasn’t much that of importance.

            The stillness was getting to him, though. There was plenty of movement from the shaking trees, but that was all. Most had gone inside for the day, far more versed in sea-side storms than he and certainly more cautious. He was left only with his thoughts, which dawdled on the early day’s incident. It was at times like those he wished he had some other ways to distract himself, but he found most activities offered to him boring to the point of mild irritation with minor exceptions (all of which requiring someone else to partake in.)

            He decided to once again take to the clock tower, though this time without scaling the whole way up.

            Upon reaching the top, he sat with his legs swinging over the edge to the town down below. For whatever reason, looking down did not give him the nauseating feeling he felt like it was supposed to have had. He was _supposed_ to be afraid of heights, and yet looking down he felt… nothing. Not a pang of fear nor panic as he briefly supplied himself with the image of falling to what most likely would have been his death.

            He supposed it was because that if push came to shove he would summon his keyblade glider and save himself from such a fate, but upon thinking further on it he wasn’t so sure he could _do_ that.

            He out-stretched his hand cautiously, doubt beginning to creep up from the pit of his stomach and rise to the same height where the unwanted feeling sat, and focused on the keyblade. First, nothing happened, and so he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to rid himself of all the complicating thoughts, and then tried a second time. Nothing happened then, either.

            He opened his eyes, looking out at his hand. The veins had become more apparent, skin pale and translucent like he was freezing to death. He yanked his hand back quickly, and when he did so it returned to a more normal hue.

            There was little time to focus on that, however, as the troubling feelings in his chest dropped like a stone. Something he couldn’t place told him to look towards the Sandlot, which though a fair distance below he could see clearly. Darkness gathered in the center.

 

            It was not the fastest he had run in his life, but it was a close match. Hayner was heavier than he’d thought but it mattered little after he’d plopped him down on top of the building’s terrace.

            There wasn’t that much time – he needed to get back immediately to the darkness’s source and find some way to stop it from spewing more of those abominations. He knew he didn’t have a keyblade to do so with, but he had alternate means – at least, he was certain there were.

            The rain was cold and biting, wind lashing to draw yet more warmth from his bones. Despite that, he felt exhilarated. His own pulse felt exciting and new, which would have troubled him if not for his own enthusiasm. Despite how clear the danger was or how daunting it could be, he wasn’t afraid. It was almost as though the feeling had ceased to exist. It wasn’t out of arrogance, he knew that he was at a  disadvantage without his keyblade, but it felt as though this is what he needed to be doing. He needed to fight.

            When he arrived at the Sandlot, thunder crackled overhead. The darkness has gathered in a considerable amount as the shambling little creatures poured forth, turning their golden gaze to him.

            He would have made light work if not for the fact he couldn’t truly hurt them. He mostly just kicked them around, knocking them off when they grabbed on and wheeling out of the way when necessary. They didn’t really hurt him that much either – they tiny claws did little hurt _him_ but it felt like they were somehow distorting something else.

            He also knew he could not keep like this forever – eventually he would tire and be overwhelmed. More grave threats arose from the dark portal, ones that were better dodged than fought.

            He backed away for a brief moment, rethinking his strategy. He’d been hoping that in his time of need the keyblade would come to him as it had before, but it appeared that it would not. He wasn’t entirely unprepared for such a case, though, and there was the possibility he was not truly in dire straits just yet.

            There was one thing he could do, with some concentration – he just needed a moment to do so.

            He doubled back farther, taking in a deep breath and putting together the image of his mind – a small construct it was, but helpful. It appeared beside him shortly after, the crystalline structure glinting in the dim light. He needed not tell it what to do, as the drone-like object flew forth, beams of energy striking down the smaller dark beings with ease.

            He could not move from his spot, however, having to concentrate on the object. There was a time when that wasn’t the case, but he was more worried about the present moment.

            Unfortunately his concentration was shortly broken as one of the more menacing beings took a swipe at him. He moved out of the way quickly, but the construct disappeared immediately.

            The creatures were smarter than they appeared, perhaps, because it was afterwards that they gave him no time to try to same thing again.

            There was little more that he could do but try not to get in the way. Many of the little things had perished, leaving their more dangerous counterparts to try and strike him down. There seemed to be more every minute.

            Anger sparked in his chest. If now wasn’t the time for the keyblade, when would it be? There was darkness right before him, all around him, inside of him, and yet its light would not cut through any of it. Somewhere it was, dormant and un-answering and there was little he could do but try not to get hit.

            It was not much longer until his luck ran out. The combination of rain and his own distracting thoughts lost him but a brief second, and with a harsh movement he was thrown into a wall, feeling a sharp pain once again ride up his spine to his brain and with that he could not move, unable to stop himself from falling on his face.

            It didn’t hurt, but he could taste a metallic tang in his mouth, dripping down from his nose. He snarled and tried to lift himself up, but the sharp electric jolt seized him once more and he let go.

            The dark creatures came ever closer, like a wall of shadow. He hissed but could do nothing more, like a rabid animal with its leg in a trap.

            Rage. Deep and seething, unfurling like a flame. It was directionless, but not without aim. Anger at himself, anger at the keyblade, anger at the darkness itself. It uncovered hidden things, but the same feeling. Rage, so much rage.

            Thunder snapped overhead, heralding the called lightning strike, as was his last frantic move.

            He felt the electricity strike the ground around him. The energy seared the dark beings in an instant, overwhelming light burning the shadows away.

            But so too did it fry his brain. In those last moments, as the world turned murky and dim, he could feel remnant electricity arc from his body to the ground. The cold rain sapped the last of his energy away.

 

            They walked side by side, but she had decided to dance across the low crumbling wall. More fun, she said, arms outstretched like wings to catch her in the case of a fall.

            Her name was Aqua, and it was the same Aqua. Just younger than before. She had a determined look on her face, staring directly at the ground before her.

            “How long do you think it’ll take to become keyblade masters?” she asked.

            Shame bubbled up in his chest, though he didn’t understand why.

            A deep sadness came through the cracks but was hastily masked over, “I dunno, probably not until we’re a lot older though,” a voice that was not his own answered.

            Though, upon thinking about it, it was his. More youthful, yes, but it wasn’t like he was _that_ much older. He still knew it was his – and yet, it was not.

            They stopped walking to look out to the valley below. She panicked, falling backwards but over compensating for that and instead fell forwards. Without thought he reached out and grabbed her hand.

            Suddenly the world fell away, leaving them both in darkness. The hand that had reached out to grab her own was now his, but pale and translucent once more. She was older once more, staring at him with terror.

            She kicked him off, driving her sharp heel into his chest. He fell away into the darkness, then.

 

            He groaned, picking himself off the ground. It was slightly less awful than his original awakening, but for the first few moments he could only kneel and try to get his bearings.

            His name was Terra, he was in Twilight Town, he’d been there for… sometime over three weeks, and…

            The mind fog was difficult to get through. It didn’t help that he was freezing, though he did not shiver. He wiped the blood that drained from his nose only for it to bleed more, and he spat as it filled his mouth.

            At the very least it wasn’t raining as harshly as it was before. Still cold, but it no longer beating the trees and the sky wasn’t nearly as dark and foreboding.

            He closed his eyes, taking a few more deep breathes when he heard steps rapidly approaching.

            “Terra! Oh my—YOUR NOSE!” Hayner shouted, throwing his hands over his own nose as he skidded to a stop in front of him.

            “It’s not that bad” he mumbled, pushing himself up to stand. The world spun and someone held him up, but he didn’t know who since Hayner’s hands had flown out to help him but didn’t actually make contact.

            When he turned his head, he was dumbfounded. It was… perhaps the strangest thing he’d ever seen, and that was saying a lot due to his own rather strange disposition. It loosely reminded him of the creatures he had just fought, what with its shadowed face and golden eyes, but it was certainly much friendlier. It was also clothed, with a blue coat and a large hat.

            “Thanks for catching him, Vivi” Hayner said, taking Terra from this… Vivi character.

            Perhaps it was just because he’d shocked himself but the only thing that came to mind was a select choice of words he dared not utter in Hayner’s presence, and an on loop repeat of _‘what are you?’_

            He just – he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Why was Hayner not weirded out by this tiny man? Why did this tiny man have glowing yellow eyes? What was it with the hat?

            So many questions and more swirled around his burned out brain that he didn’t argue on the way back to the apartment, though upon getting inside he decided that, for the moment, he was going to act like nothing was strange for Hayner’s sake and in the hope that maybe his brain was cooked so thoroughly he was just seeing this all wrong.

            He immediately pulled out the space heater and turned it on while Hayner changed into dry clothes. Vivi toweled off his own but did not remove the hat from his head to do so.

            While they dried off, he warmed up the rice bags that Hayner’s mother had made and started making soup for the two of them. It didn’t take long, and soon they were sitting on the couch with a mountain of blankets surrounding them with a bowl in front of each.

            He had begun taking the wet clothes and putting them into the laundry basket when he watched Vivi eat – the spoon sort of just… disappeared into the dark abyss that was Vivi’s face and Terra promptly turned his head back to the laundry and tried not to think about what he’d just seen.

            Hayner said Vivi was welcome to stay and Terra didn’t protest. How could he? Though Vivi unsettled him quite a bit he’d been nothing but be nice to him and Hayner. He did, however, elect to take the laundry down the basement if it meant he’d get some time to sort out his thoughts.

            The idle rumbling of the drying and washing machines soothed him slightly. He couldn’t say he was happy, nor at peace, with the events of the day, but he was grateful that Hayner was okay.

            He could not say the same for himself. With every memory he recovered, with every thought or feeling that seemed odd or strange, with every anomaly in his body, he felt more shaken by the truth of the matter –

            He was beginning to be uncertain if this body was truly his, if these memories were truly his.

            He returned upstairs to find Vivi and Hayner sitting idly, watching the TV. Hayner looked from his mound of blankets.

            “Hey, dude, you’re still soaking wet. You wanna change that, or do you like looking like a wet paper towel?”

            He puffed air out of his mouth and went to take another shower. It wouldn’t cleanse him of his anxieties, but it may have at least helped settle those feelings.

            The TV had gone out sometime while he was in the shower judging by Hayner’s groan. When he exited he found Vivi and him playing X’s and O’s on a scrap piece of paper, by the looks of it.

            “Finally decided to join us, eh?” Hayner asked, leaning on his elbow.

            “What are you doing?”

            “Trying to pass the time. Storm’s still going”

            He nodded and sat down to watch. It became evident that both of them were a bit too smart for the game because it ended with a tie seven out of the nine times they’d played already.

            “Isn’t there something more important you could be doing?”

            “Nope” Hayner drawled, to which Vivi agreed.

            He frowned slightly.

            "Sometimes you just gotta do stuff that isn’t important” Vivi shrugged.

            Terra couldn’t argue, so he titled his head in a sort-of agreement.

            He watched idly for a while, before the two players got bored and Hayner dragged a different game from the depths of his room – this time it was some sort of checkers looking game, except instead of a board the pieces were dropped on one another in some sort of plastic panel. He failed to see how this would fun.

            “You’ve _never_ played connect four?” Vivi gasped.

            Terra gave him a flat look.

            “Well, I guess we’ll show him then.”

            And they did. It wasn’t exhilarating but it was more fun than sitting there and watching nothing happen. He was pretty good, too, up until the point Hayner cursed him and called it ‘beginner’s luck’ that he’d won so many times.

            He couldn’t help but smirk a little at that.

 

            Eventually the storm did end and Vivi went… home? He didn’t actually know. Hayner’s mother came home not so longer afterwards, rushing to apologize for being home so late but the weather was so bad that the trains hadn’t left on time.

            Hayner gently accepted the apology. Terra didn’t really know whether or not to tell Mrs. Hayner what had happened that day – one because he didn’t want her to worry, secondly because of how easily Hayner could have gotten hurt. He shouldn’t have let that happen…

            Hayner took after his mother, though, and lied coolly. He said that they’d just stayed home for most of the day, Terra had made dinner already so she needed not worry.

            He took note, but said nothing.

 

            It was late that night, but he could not sleep. Or rather, he avoided it. He wouldn’t admit to it, but he was… scared. Scared of dreaming once more, scared of finding further knowledge that would only accentuate his doubts.

            So he stayed on the couch, twiddling his thumbs with the kitchen light on. The dim white light illuminated his back, but not much more of the room.

            He heard a door down the hall open and the shuffle of bare feet across the hard floor. He didn’t move his head to look, and felt the couch depress by his side.

            “Hey Terra” Hayner said quietly.

            “Yes, Hayner?”

            “I can’t go to sleep.”

            He nodded.

            “I’m worried those things will come out of the dark again… it’s funny, this sort of reminds me of what happened with the dusks. For a couple of weeks after I kept dreaming they’d slither out from the foot of my bed and get me… but this time I almost did get… hurt…”

            His voice trailed off, leaving them both only in the dull hum of the generator below. He could hear Hayner sniffle, slightly.

            “I forgot the laundry downstairs. Would you like to come with me?” he offered nearly as quietly.

            Hayner rubbed his face, quieting his sniffles. “Yeah.”

            They remained in silence down the long stairway, and on the way back up. Hayner didn’t need to come, there was only one basket after all, but he wasn’t going to let him sit in the dark.

            They folded the clothes and blankets on the couch, not speaking. He wanted to somehow comfort Hayner, but he could not. He didn’t know how. It sparked anger but did not flame, instead just smoldering within him.

            He thought for a while, though, instead of just being angry.

            Though he was tentative, he did reach out his hand to touch Hayner’s shoulder. When Hayner did not pull away, he fully placed his hand.

            He was able to make eye contact, if not briefly, and chose his words with care. “I won’t… let them hurt you. I promise.”

            Hayner nodded, mouth twitching and blubbering with the immense effort of holding tears back.

            “If you’d like I can stay on the floor in your room tonight. Would that help?”

            “Yeah…” his voice was abnormally soft, speaking so low so as to not let it crack. It shook him, slightly.

            It was settled then. Hayner moved a few things, and Terra threw down a pillow and some blankets, laying down.

            “Goodnight, Terra.”

            “Goodnight.”

 

            And for the first time in a very long while, he went right to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHOHOHO this one is... way longer than the others but I didn't want to leave in a weird spot and also because I hadn't updated in a while. Though this is more an exception than the norm.  
> But ye. Some hypothesizing on my part as to whether TLW can actually... have a body... also, some brief outside view! the board pieces are moving and unfortunately Terra is not very good at board games (except connect four...)  
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	6. Hayner's Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief exhibition into Hayner's mother's point of view -- what does she think of Hayner's weird friend?

            She knew something was up, just not what. She’d taken note the night after the storm – dinner had been oddly quiet – which wouldn’t have been strange since she’d just warmed up leftovers for herself, but the dinners after were a little more quiet too. Or rather, _he_ was.

            She figured that it may have just been Hayner was a chatter box, and it’s not like Terra spoke that much to begin with – but she noticed the change nonetheless. He seemed to fume at the opposite side of the table, glaring at his microwaved carrots like if they were a person he’d smother them.

            “You don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to…” she trailed off gently. Microwaved carrots _were_ kind of gross…

            “No, they’re fine” he mumbled and stabbed his fork into the pitiful root.

            She wasn’t bothered since it wasn’t directed at her, she knew, but even so… something had changed. She just didn’t know what.

 

            Hayner looked up at her, mouth twitched to one side like it always did when he was certain she was going to ask him a question he wasn’t going to like.

            “Did something happen between you and him?” she asked, voice hushed.

            “What? No – he’s just weird.”

            She sighed. “Hayner” she said, exuding her dissatisfaction in a tone that only a mother could have - motherly disappointment. Weighty but without the sort of hard edge that was usually applied to the word – more like a club than a dagger.

            Hayner moved his weight. “Alright, but don’t tell him I told you, alright?”

            She bent down further.

            Her son folded his arms, shifting on his feet once more. “During the storm I sorta… got left outside? Because I was looking for him…”

            Panic! But only slightly. She kept it to herself at the moment.

            “… and well, uh. Some stuff happened and he sort got hurt and now stuff’s a little weird.”

            More panic! Lots of panic. Once again, though, she didn’t show it to her son, at least not all of it. Her fingers curled at her sides.

            “Hurt how?”

            He shrugged. Unhelpful, but she didn’t sense that he was hiding anything at that time. She had a more important question, regardless; “Are you okay?”

            He shrugged again, turning his head away.

            “Hayner. Look at me” she said gently.

            “I’m feeling better now, but I think something’s bothering him. I don’t really know what happened because he won’t tell me.”

            She hummed, thinking. “Thank you sweetie” she kissed the top of his head, and for once he didn’t try to wiggle out of the way. “Don’t worry about him, let me do that.”

            “You know if you ask him you’ll just make him mad at both of us, right?” he said plainly.

            “I’m smarter than that, you know” she winked at him and turned away.

           

            The morning after, she had already laid out her plan. Thinking about it like that made it seem much more devious than it was. Much more like a dastardly scheme than trying to get her meaning across without tripping wires.

            She stepped into the kitchen, reading his mood. Terra stared into his bowl of cereal, leaning his chin on his hand and stirring it slowly. His eyebrows were furrowed and the lines on his face hardened, looking into the saturated wheat thins with great disdain, though she sensed that it was not the sogginess of the wheat thins that bothered him.

            She wheeled over, shouldering her purse and putting a nice smile on her face. “Hey you”

            He didn’t move his head, flickering his eyes up instead. His mouth, which had been turned into a slight frown, flattened to a taught line.

            “How about you come grocery shopping with me today.” It wasn’t really a request, but it wasn’t like she’d bully him into coming with her.

            He leaned away, gritting his teeth slightly, looking for some way to escape. She wouldn’t intimidate him (though the likelihood of that ever happening was slim to none), but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t tilt the stage slightly in her favor.

           

            They rode the train to the grocery store, silent the whole way. She could have spoken, but she elected not to – another part of her plan. He wasn’t someone who enjoyed conversation, at least not with her.

            She handed him a reusable bag as they walked into the grocery store. She got a few things – bananas, apples, carrots and lettuce – the usual, before moving on. She tried to think of things that they’d all like, but Terra sort of just ate whatever was put in front of him (including carrots which he seemed to hate.) Hayner didn’t mind complaining, though if only to tease her slightly – it was never anything she was proud of.

            “Well, since you came with me today I suppose that means you can pick dinner tonight…” she mused carefully while rifling through the deli meat.

            His eyes lit up. “Can we get oven pizza?”

            She laughed a little. “Yes, we’ll get it when we get milk.”

            Shortly thereafter she paid for groceries and they rode the train home and Terra kept the bag with the oven pizza in it firmly on his lap like it’d disappear if it left his eyesight, dropping it off and putting the food away. There were still more errands she needed to do but she wasn’t about to make him come with her again – er, _incline_ him to accompany her. She didn’t even really like shopping herself, but she’d offer if it meant possibly not going alone.

            “I’ve got more stuff I need to do, you’re welcome to come but free to stay home” she smiled briefly and spun to leave once more.

            “Mrs. Hayner…” she heard him say. She turned to look at him.

            He looked so awkward, almost like he was sorry. He kept himself rather tightly together, uncomfortable yet forcing himself to do whatever it was he was trying to do. She quirked her brow.

            “May I come with you?”

            Success! Well, she hoped that’s what that meant. She smiled and waved him on. She was certainly glad she hadn’t alienated him somehow.

            The ride out of town, she was further surprised when he spoke. It wasn’t a full conversation, but there were words.

            “Where are we going?”

            “Going to look for clothes. Hayner needs some more since he’s starting to outgrow his old stuff”

            Terra nodded and looked at his feet again.

            “You know if you’d like, I could probably get you a shirt that actually fits” she said.

            Terra’s cheeks turned pink and he pulled the bottom of his shirt down some ways. “Is it really that noticeable?”

            She laughed. “No no I’m only teasing!”

            His expression changed very gradually to something sort of like a smile – it seemed awkward, like he’d gotten punched in the mouth a few too many times so it took him a moment to pull all the muscles of his face into a toothy grin. He let a short breath out his mouth, which was sort of like a laugh, and turned his head away.

 

            After they were off the train, it was a short walk to the clothing store, grabbing a cart and heading into the interior.

            Once inside, she dug through her pocket and unfolded the yellow piece of note paper that Hayner had given her – a short list of possible articles of clothing he’d like. In her purse, coupons carefully saved for this exact moment and then verified to make sure they hadn’t expired. Then she checked to make sure her wallet was in the right pocket, panicking briefly when she didn’t find it only to remember she’d moved it to a different pocket thinking it’d be easier to remember since her purse was a bottomless abyss, apparently.

            “Well, as long as you’re here I’ll give you some unsolicited advice” she said.

            Terra raised his eyebrow.

            “Don’t make your girlfriend carry your stuff because nine times out of ten anything that gets put in a purse is gone forever.”

            Terra nodded, but she had the feeling that he didn’t know what she was talking about judging by the puzzled look on his face.

            “Why would I make someone carry my stuff?” he asked not but a few moments into their shopping venture.

            She blinked a couple of times. “If your hands are full” she phrased almost as a question.

            “Wouldn’t you just take a bag with you if you knew you were going to be carrying stuff?”

            She stopped, turning and wagging her finger at him. “You. You’re smart.”

            Terra blinked back at her.

            She spun on her heels back and moved down the aisle to the pants section, rifling through the find the right sizes and the cut that Hayner would like. She couldn’t really read some of what he’d written down though.

            Afterwards she went elsewhere, scouring the department store for everything else on the list, occasionally making faces at price tags but she figured that hell, it’d been a while since Hayner had gotten some new clothes and none of her stuff was _that_ old.

            Terra followed behind amiably despite her rapid ‘shopping walk’ as Hayner had bemoaned while trailing a few feet behind her on several occasions, eyes wandering around the ceiling and scaring off people who made eye contact with him.

            It was sort of funny, though she didn’t really get why. He wasn’t _that_ scary, she didn’t think, but she supposed it may have been because she’d been around long enough to know better. That and she knew he was mostly just _awkward_ , above all else. Though that did not mean she didn’t notice anything strange. She chose, however, to let it go – not because she didn’t want it to complicate her life, nor was it because she was fearful of it, but because she figured everyone deserved a clean slate in her eyes. So she ignored the faint anxiety in her heart.

            She looked for a few things for herself – nothing large, maybe a bracelet, and as she did she caught Terra slow down and stare at a shirt. He tentatively stepped over to run it between his hands, then began to refold it and put it away.

            She couldn’t say she’d object to it on principal – it was a white sleeveless top with a lotus design in the center. Not a bad pick as far as cheap-o muscle shirts went, if she had to say.

            “You want that?” she asked, stepping right next to him.

            “Yes, but don’t worry about it.”

            She waved her hand, “no no, I insist. You’ve done a lot for me and Hayner lately, and I did tease you earlier about not having a shirt that fit, no?”

            He slowly placed it in the cart, maintaining eye contact as if he expected her to slap his hand out of the way or something. He hesitated bringing his arms out too, like he was anticipating her to be like ‘jokes on you, put that shirt back.’

            She didn’t though, and shortly afterward she paid and they left. He insisted that he carried most of it to the train. It had been a bit of a long day so she didn’t protest too much.

            The train station was cast in golden light, turning everything an orange hue. It made their shadows long as they stepped into the train car, which was mostly empty that day.

            He had a very slight, but noticeable, smile on his face as they sat down.

            Some silence passed between them, intercut with the rumble of the train and the occasional chatter by other passengers. Eventually he pulled his shirt out of the bag to look at it once more.

            “Do you like flowers?” she asked while he traced his hand in circles over the lotus.

            “Yes, though I don’t think there’s anyone who doesn’t.”

            “True, but there are people who can’t seem to stand them certain places.”  
            “Like where?”

            “Sidewalks, mostly. People hate it when dandelions grow through the cracks, or in their flower boxes.”

            Terra thought about it for moment. “It seems strange to hate something for living.”

            She shrugged. “Dandelions take up the space and the water for their own flowers, I suppose.”

            “That seems a little sad.”

            “Yeah, I suppose, but they are just flowers.”

            She thought back to the summer days she’d spent at her grandparents’ house, picking dandelions and buttercups and tying them into crowns with her sister, often earning their grandfather’s joke of how they were doing the weeding for him. The dandelions bled, in a way – the foul odored white pus tasted worse than it smelled. When it dried it became tacky on her fingers, and when she tried to lick it off she spent the next five minutes spitting the bitter taste out of her mouth. Her sister laughed at her then.

            It was funny – the smell and taste were still fresh in her mind despite it having been a long, long time. Everything in her memory seemed a little brighter, and little darker – the shadows more stark but the colorful things more bright. Flowers seemed to glow in the summer haze, the grass seemed so much more green.

            She supposed that’s what memory was. Everything so much more vivid, but blurry too; her grandfather’s face was more or less a blur, as was her sister’s – ambiguity brought on by time, no doubt.

            Though, that made her wonder what that meant for Terra, who had no memory at all. When he was left in those quiet moments, what did he think of? Perhaps that was why he was so quiet.

            She let out a relaxed sigh, patting her knee lightly. “Well, we should be home soon. Maybe this summer you can plant as many dandelions as you’d like. I’m sure Hayner’d make fun of you” she said, smiling warmly after she finished speaking.

            Terra didn’t seem to hear her, though. He stared straight in front of himself at the empty seat across. He didn’t breathe, just stare like someone was sitting there, as though holding his breath would help him in some way. Though the fear was evident, it almost looked like nothing was behind his eyes.

            She leaned over, shaking his shoulder lightly, but he didn’t respond. A bit concerned, she shook him again, and looked across to see if she’d missed something but found nothing there.

            “You alright?” she asked.

            “I… yeah.” He swallowed like his throat was dry. He wiped his nose, and before he could hide his hand she saw just a tiny smear of blood.

            She nodded slowly, unassured but she didn’t wish to trouble him with more questioning. He already seemed a bit shaken, so inquiring further would either agitate him or upset him.

            She thought back on her memory once more. When she forgot things, it was rare that they reappeared unless there was something that strongly reminded her, like a certain pattern of events, or a smell, or a color. She wondered if that was the same for him.

 

            “We’re home!” she called in a sing-song tone, stepping through the door.

            Hayner rolled over the arm of the couch to stand, putting his hands on his hips. “And what were you doing out so late young lady?”

            She scoffed, smiling toothily.

            “Turning my mom into a hooligan, are you, Terra?”

            Terra made a ‘psh’ sound with his mouth as he walked over to preheat the oven.

            “No, not quite there yet kid. I dragged him along on errands was all”

            “Oh,” Hayner said, folding his arms, “so you tortured him?”

            “I’d hardly call it torture.” She made a flat expression.

            Terra pulled his new shirt out of the bag, “I got a shirt out of it” he said, holding it out in front of him.

            “Yeah, it looks like you did” he mused.

            “That reminds me. I gotta wash this all before you can wear it, so how about you and Hayner get dinner ready”

            Terra and Hayner nodded.

 

            She held the basket against her hip as she walked down the stairs to the basement. It was quite full and a bit of a relief to put down.

            She separated the colors and white pretty quickly, not thinking too hard since she was just trying to go fast, but she felt something wet against her hand as she put a black shirt away. She turned her hand around and found it was just barely bloody, a light orangish smear across her palm. She pulled the garment from the pile, running it through her hands to find the wet spot again and held it to the light to find a sizeable blood stain around the front of the collar, like quite a bit of blood had been spilling from someone’s mouth or nose.

            She ran it through cold water for a while, scrubbed it was best she could do to get the worst of the blood out and put it away with the rest of the clothes. She was glad it was black, at least.

            Since putting clothes in the washing machine had taken longer than she’d thought it would, she rushed up the stairs. When she got to the second floor, she ran into Hayner and Terra who were making their way down.

            “Oh, sorry boys, there was just a stain I had to take care of” she said.

            Hayner looked at Terra. Terra kept looking at her. She was a bit confused.

            “Oh, well we were just coming to tell you that dinner’s ready.”

            And so they turned around on the staircase and went up with her.

 

            He washed, she dried. That was the arrangement for dishes that night. He’d nearly done both himself, but she told him it was more equal to do it this way.

            Neither said anything for a little while, but she had to break her rule for the day.

            “I found some blood on your shirt” she explained.

            “Oh, sorry.”

            “Don’t be sorry” she chuffed, vigorously drying a plate. “I just want to make sure you didn’t get punched or anything – you didn’t get punched, did you?”

            “No, I fell on my face a few days ago and last night I opened it up again, sorry.”

            “Any blood on your pillow?”

            “No.”

            That… didn’t quite match up, but she wouldn’t go any further. Maybe he woke up and ran to the bathroom or something.

            “Well, I’m glad you didn’t get punched in the face.”

            They finished cleaning and she began to get ready for bed. Beforehand though, he stopped her briefly.

            “Thank you for the shirt, Mrs. Hayner”

            “No need to thank me, Terra. I’m just glad you came with me today.”

            She gave him a brief hug, which must have surprised him immensely because he froze straight solid, then detached and left for her room.

            She went to bed with a good deal of satisfaction, undercut only by the fact she’d forgotten about the laundry. _Oh well_ , she thought, drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's also a bit longer than the others! Though that may be because it's a lot of dialog. but yeah. Hayner's mom -- I left her unnamed because I've always felt weird about putting named characters into stories, but if you're curious I'm thinking it's Margret.  
> Oh! I also made a cover for this story -- I'll upload it at some point, but rn I'm gonna let it sit for a bit so I've got time to go back and edit it if need be  
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	7. Eglantines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's too many things to worry about. Perhaps some time with friends will remedy that.

            It wasn’t quite time to head over, so they sat at the train station, on the low wall that over looked the rest of town. Terra had said something about the clock tower itself but Hayner felt like that was an accident waiting to happen eventually, so sit they did.

            It was getting closer to dusk, but at the moment it was still light out.

            While they were waiting, he decided to be a little proactive and finish some of his homework, though it did call to mind a question that hadn’t really before – just what did Terra do all day? Stare at the wall paper?

            “So you don’t go to school, right? Then what do you do?”

            “Clean, look for work to do. There’s not a whole lot that needs to be done though.”

            “You know you don’t _have_ to have anything to do, right? You can just… chill. What are you, a shark? If you stop moving you can’t breathe?”

            “That’s only some sharks.”

            “Irrelevant!”

            Terra puffed air at him, then he smiled. It was kind of a lazy smile, sort of just pulling back his lips to bare his teeth for a moment, but it felt more comfortable. It was a little weird, though. He simply hadn’t anticipated it.

            “Fine though. Perhaps you _are_ right and I don’t _need_ to be doing something, so what do you do when you’re bored?”

            Hayner thought for a moment. “Well if I can’t hang out with my friends I’d ask Mom if I could use the computer sometimes. Or I’d watch TV, play games n’ stuff.”

            Terra hummed, “that doesn’t interest me all that much.”

            He tapped his chin. “Music’s nice.”

            “I’ve got no way to listen to any.”

            He thought for a second. He could almost grasp an answer, but at the moment he just couldn’t.

            It was a short walk to Pence’s house from the train’s drop off. He shifted his bag over his shoulder and knocked on the front door.

            “You don’t have to come along if you don’t want” he noted briefly, glancing to his side.

            “Trying to get me to leave?” Terra said flatly. For a moment he was bewildered – but the slight twitch at the corner of Terra’s mouth indicated a smile lying underneath.

            “Psh, you’re a jerk, you know that?”

            Terra shrugged, Hayner scoffed.

            Pence’s father opened the door, smiling and inviting him in. He gave Terra the once over but said nothing, and so he turned through the kitchen, opened the basement door, and then headed down the stairs.

            Olette was already there, punctual as ever, getting up to greet. They bumped fists and he asked, “Where’s Pence?”

            “Here’s Pence” he answered, jumping from behind the old TV, putting his flashlight down. “As it turns out it took me a bit to remember how to plug the VHS player in right.”

            He nodded and set his things down.

            “So what’s the plan?” he said.

            “Always a plan with you, isn’t it?”

            “As opposed to what?” he huffed.

            Olette laughed and Pence joined in.

            It was not entirely at his expense though – Pence explained that yes, he did have a small plan, or rather the vague outline of one. Better than nothing, he supposed.

            First they ate – fried chicken, steamed vegetables and mashed potatoes that were _really_ good – then they played poker. Instead of chips or money they used stale cereal, which he ate nonetheless. Poker was really the only game he was good at – he just had a fair deal of luck, probably (and Pence wasn’t very good at calling his bluff. Olette had more luck much to his chagrin), and Terra watched off the the side. Towards the end he leaned over and around to look at their cards before doling fake advice with an unhidden smirk on his face.

            After a few rounds of poker, much of the stale cereal had mysteriously vanished and so they moved onto another game. This time, Go Fish, which he hated, and Olette excelled in.

            “Got any threes?” she asked, but already knew the answer judging by the smug grin that crept across her face.

            “Go fish yourself” he thrust forth the accursed card and threw down the rest of his hand, flopping backwards dramatically.

            Olette and Pence laughed to the point of wheezing, doubling over in a fit. He couldn’t help but laugh himself too.

            After putting the cards away, Pence pushed the coffee table out of the way and cleared his throat.

            “Alright, Alright. Guess who I’m supposed to be”

            He puffed his chest out a little bit, pushing out his bottom lip and looking down at Olette. He then marched in a circle, inspecting Hayner with a close eye.

            “Are you someone in the room?” Olette said, smiling still but she titled her head, and drew out the middle of her words.

            “No”

            “You’re Saifer” Hayner cut in quickly. Pence put his hands together.

            Hayner stepped up, taking his jacket off the couch and laid on his shoulders and ran his hand through his hair. He pushed himself off the floor, making himself as tall as possible, so he could look down his nose.

            “Are you Setzer?” Olette replied.

            “Yeah, that one was easy though.”

            He sat down and Olette stepped up. She rubbed her hands together, thinking for a moment before she narrowed it down.

            She put her hand over her face in a slow way, like she was wiping the expression off. She put her hands on her waist, craning her neck slightly but her gaze was tilted upwards. Because it was Olette she somehow looked more ridiculous than Pence did in just how _serious_ she tried to look.

            “Are you someone in this room?”

            “Yes” she said in a very gruff voice, so much so that she coughed afterwards.

            “Uh…” Pence looked around.

            Terra bounced his leg as he flipped through the pages of his book. Hayner squinted, and felt a smile drag across his face.

            “You’re Terra”

            Terra lifted his head up, a crooked smile on his face. “That’s supposed to be me?”

            “Yes” Olette growled again, puffing herself up so she could look down at him more.

            At first, Hayner was surprised – and he judged by the expression on their faces that everyone else was too – because Terra laughed. It wasn’t especially loud or rough, in fact it was rather… warm? It made Terra seem much younger than Hayner had grown to think of him as.

            Terra quieted himself down quickly, clearing his throat and awkwardly patting his hands on his knees while trying not to look any of them in the eye.

            “I didn’t think you could do that” he considered.

            “Do what?”

            “Laugh!” Pence answered for him. He put his hand under his chin as if it was keeping it from hitting the floor.

            Terra scoffed, “I’m not a robot”

            “Hmmm…” Olette began, “Doubtful. I could count the number of times you’ve _smiled_ on one hand.”

            Terra huffed, but the weird half smile stayed.

            “No wonder why he doesn’t laugh if you give him such a hard time about it” Pence’s father echoed from the top of the basement stairs.

            Pence walked over to lean through the railing, “Were we bothering you?”

            Pence’s dad chuckled. “No not at all, we just thought you were having too much fun down here”

            “Pff, alright dad” Pence waved him off.

 

            Afterwards began the movie marathon – they went on rotation for who had to put the VHS tape in, or rewind it if needed (which led to a great amount of groaning as the night drew on). It went about as it usually did; around ten, Pence would doze off only to be awoken by either a particularly loud scene in the movie or his turn and get his second wind. Olette would sleep intermittently throughout but never enough that she didn’t know what was going on, nor did she protest when it was her turn to get up. He himself stayed up all throughout, but around midnight he began to feel the pull of sleep.

            They laid in a pile on the couch more or less, too tired to move onto the air mattress or the floor. The couch was warm and comfy and despite Olette being a notorious blanket thief, when burrito’d in her own it was a satisfying sleeping arrangement.

            Terra was still off to the side. For a while it didn’t seem like he’d been that interested in what they’d been watching, but he’d put down his book at some point.

            Hayner thought little of it as he began to doze off, eye lids heavy. His breathing slowed and he knew soon he’d be out.

            “Hayner, can I ask you a question?” Terra asked cautiously.

            He gave a weak response at first, sort of something between yes and grumbling for being stirred. He was a little annoyed. “Can it wait?”

            “No.”

            He let out a long sigh and turned his head. “What?”

            “Do the people on the screen exist, or do they only exist in your mind?”

            He blinked slowly. Part of it was that he was exhausted, another part was that he had no idea what that meant or if Terra was just that _dumb_.

            “Of course they’re real. Are you _sure_ you didn’t get hit in the head?”

            He felt bad when he looked over though. What he had been expecting to see was the normally vaguely-irritated but otherwise expressionless Terra always had, but in the stark lighting from the TV he saw a deep concern highlighted on his face.

            “I’m sorry, that was… mean… But uh, what’s really bothering you?”

            He shifted from his more comfortable position so that he could better see.

            “I don’t think there’s anyone waiting for me.”

            “What does that have to do with being real?”

            Terra sighed, getting up from his chair to the TV. “The people in there, they’re stuck in that same place and same time forever – but with each cycle of the film, the image gets worn down. Sure, their actors are probably still around, but what does that mean to this thing that they made, that they’re in? When I search through the memories I do have they’re… fuzzy, warped. It’s not like how I remember things now – when I remember my first day here it feels different than when I recall something previously. It’s almost as though they aren’t mine, like I watched them through someone else’s eyes.”

            Hayner paused. “I don’t know how to answer that… but… uh. Well, okay. Maybe there aren’t people waiting for you to come back, but those memories _are_ yours – how else would they get there? – And, well. I know _I’m_ glad you’re here, and I bet these two are too.”

            “Okay…”

            Hayner nodded and shifted back, but he watched Terra as he bent down to turn the TV off. He didn’t look that encouraged by his words.

            The TV flicked off with a sharp electric sound. He could imagine the heat from the old screen, the sort of static in the air surrounding it.

            With Terra’s back to him, he saw something strange. It was quite dark, save the small lamp on the bookshelf in the corner of the room, but there was another light. He couldn’t see it very well, but when he looked just about where Terra was, he saw those same red markings that he’d seen that one time in the shower. What was different, though, was that they were more… elaborate? There were more threads, or rather they were more apparent despite some of his hair hiding them.

            He rubbed his eyes and the glowing red spine was gone, but he was left with a distinct lingering dread in his chest, but of what he didn’t know.

 

            A few days passed, but Terra didn’t seem to come out of his fog. Hayner thought on it when he could and decided he needed something to think about other than what he didn’t know – something to busy him, and perhaps something to remind him he needed to eat too. Good lord, he was pretty sure if no one told him that he could make food for himself he wouldn’t. It was a wonder he hadn’t passed out at this point.

            He hatched a plan on the way home from school, he just needed to gently bring it up since right out telling him _“hey you need to eat food and stop worrying you fool”_   would earn him a rather piercing scowl.

            So he sat himself down on the couch right next to Terra and looked him straight in the eye.

            “Hello Hayner” he said, looking through his new book. It didn’t have a cover.

            “Hey Terra.”

            Terra looked up at him and squinted. “Do you… need something?”

            “What is it with you and needing to do something, gosh” Hayner huffed.

            “I could say the same for you”

            Hayner waved his hand, “Psh, how I do it is different. I need to plan out when I do nothing. Anyhow, I do actually have something you could do during the day.”

            Terra set down his book and tilted his head slightly.

            He took that as a notion to continue speaking, “the animal shelter is always looking for someone to play with the cats, since most of the other kids volunteer to take care of the dogs n’ stuff. Maybe after you eat lunch you could head down a couple of times a week?”

            Terra nodded. “Thank you Hayner. Now can you back off?”

            Hayner chuffed, “you’ll get along with the grumpy ones I’m sure.”

            Terra pushed him off.

 

            Hayner had thought himself quite successful until he came home the next day.

            “That’s a cat.”

            “Yes, it is.”

            “Why.”

            It wasn’t so much a question as a statement. There is was, an orange tabby with a notched ear.

            “It followed me” Terra said flatly.

            Hayner cupped his jaw, frowning. He wasn’t gonna kick the poor thing it out, especially not after it rubbed against his leg so hard it fell over, then looked up at him with its big green eyes… but he was pretty sure they weren’t allowed to have pets.

            Where was he gonna put it? He couldn’t hide it in the apartment, there were like… four rooms, was his mom gonna be mad? Terra seemed unbothered, picking it up and scratching the back of its neck with a _completely_ expressionless face.

            Before he could answer any of these questions himself, his mom walked through the door.

            “That’s a cat” she observed.

            “It is” Terra said, answering simply again.

            She walked over and scratched under its chin after letting it sniff her hand.

            He paused, feeling immense anxiety. She wasn’t mad (yet), but what was she going to say? Was she going to use her mom-voice?

            “Hm, well, I don’t think the land lord will let us keep a stray.”

            “You kept Terra”  
            Terra huffed at him, but turned back with a more pleasant tone to his mom. “They don't have to know.”

            He heard his mom laugh, leaning on the wall. He scoffed, “I thought you followed the rules.”

            “Since when?” he asked rhetorically.

            He let a short sound out of his mouth, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the words that came out of Terra’s mouth.

            His mother stopped laughing, still smiling a bit though she went on to speak, “well, I’ll find out, but until then keep this kitty between us” she winked at Terra and nudged him with her elbow.

            “Well if I’m going to begin my life as a complier I’m afraid I’ll have to bring this cat to the land lord right now” he said, giving him a smug grin.

            He scoffed. “You’re the worst, you know that”

            “You could say he’s _Terra_ -ble”  
            Hayner felt all the air leave his lungs.

            His mother laughed again, as did Terra. He had the feeling he could get used to this, just maybe without the god-awful puns.

            “You two are the worst.”

            Later, he went into his brother’s room and opened the second drawer of the night stand. It had been undisturbed since last he’d been in there, as was the case with most of the room besides the bed, and so after a moment he found what he’d been looking for – his brother’s mp3 player. First thing he did was made sure it could still turn on, then he checked to see if it could still play anything. With both confirmed as a yes, he left the room behind and handed it over. It felt a little strange, handing it to Terra, but not wrong.

            He spent the next few minutes teaching him how to use it, but Terra got the hang of it pretty quickly.

            “I dunno how often you’ll use it, but my brother isn’t anymore and I figure you could like, jog to the beach or something.”

            Terra wrapped the earbuds around it, nodding. “Thank you.”

            He smiled a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this chapter was much shorter, but I ended up combining it with a second chapter as neither were going to be very long on their own. We're heading closer to the end, it looks like and unfortunately that means some of the happier moments are gonna start to slip away ...
> 
> I finished painting the cover, but I think I'll use a different image I painted at the moment because I like it more. Go back to chapter one if you'd like to view it!  
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	8. Monotropa uniflora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Unlike most plants, it is white and does not contain chlorophyll. Instead of generating energy from sunlight, it is parasitic, more specifically a myco-heterotroph... meaning it ultimately gets its energy from photosynthetic trees. Since it is not dependent on sunlight to grow, it can grow in very dark environments ... It is often associated with beech trees. The complex relationship that allows this plant to grow also makes propagation difficult."  
> \--Monotropa uniflora, Wikipedia

            “So, you’re almost done with school.”

            It was more a statement, less a question. His voice was light, much less harsh and low than he used to speak. He didn’t feel the need to, so much.

            “Yeah…”

            Not the response he’d wanted. Perhaps he’d phrased something wrong? Or perhaps something was bothering Hayner. He didn’t know, but it caught his attention.

            They’d walked all the way to the beach with little conversation. Hayner had asked if he could join him on his walk, something he hadn’t normally done, and so he’d been hoping it’d be a little more pleasant than it was. It had pleased him slightly, but the cloud that seemed to hang over Hayner’s head made him… apprehensive.

            They stopped on the beach, looking out over the sea.

            “Did you want to tell me something?” he asked. There was no point in rambling around whatever it was that bothered him.

            Hayner shifted his feet, looking at the sand underneath him.

            “Take your time.”

            They stood there for a bit. While he himself never really understood what it meant to feel anxiety in trying to speak, he could feel it more or less. It’s hard to talk, to put the things a person thinks into words. So much meaning lost, so many things that can only be felt or experienced – to try to condense them into a limited range of sounds, of known words and phrases, was difficult enough _without_ mixing in complicating reactions that made the throat tighten and eyes burn with tears or the jaw clench.

            “I wanted to talk to you.”

            “Not with the others?”  
            “Yeah… yeah. I didn’t want you to feel boxed in.”

            It was appreciated, though there was something in him that still hesitated.

            “It’s just that… I keep walking on eggshells when I want to talk to you, we all do. It makes it really hard to do this.”

            “Psh.”

            “I’m serious, dude,” Hayner turned to face him.

            He felt distinctly… uncomfortable.

            “Whenever I try to reach you, it’s like running the gauntlet so I don’t piss you off. You can’t – you can’t do that to me if you want my help.”

            “I never asked for it” he felt a bitter taste in his mouth – something like spite, but not quite. It came out as a hiss. Despite all the space around him, he felt like he’d been cornered.

            “Terra.” Hayner said, mimicking the sort of tone his mother would use but none of the authority. “You don’t need to ask for help to need it.”

            “I don’t need your help.” He held his ground, but it felt more like he was holding it at the edge of a cliff. “I’m fine.”

            “Really? You don’t look it. You look like you got hit with a bat, you barely remember anything– just, look at this!”

            Hayner grabbed him by the wrist swiftly, before he could pull it back. There was a stark difference – his skin had paled considerably, but in a sickly way. The veins of his wrist, which traced over and around his hands, were distinct. Hayner, meanwhile, was healthy, and the deep blue lines were much less apparent.

            He yanked his hand back, close to his chest. He could feel his heart beating, it felt strange – it bothered him. He glared at Hayner, but said nothing.

            “That – that’s what I mean. I’m not doing this to make you mad, dude, I’m just worried. You don’t seem all here all the time. You don’t eat unless someone tells you to. Need I remind you of that freaky mark on your back?”

            “Would you stop—” he took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. He would not shout if it could be helped “—would you—don’t touch me again.” It felt like he was fumbling with the words.

            Hayner folded his arms, his jaw set to one side, then moved to the other. “The point still stands. Terra – I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you if I could have helped it. But you keep shoving everyone away when we ask if you’re okay – we can’t read your mind, dude”  
            He felt something snap, and the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I don’t _want_ you to keep asking me if I’m okay – every time you ask, or you give me this pitiful look, you only remind me that I don’t know! I don’t know! I have never known! That has always been and will always be my answer!”

            If only he could take words out of the air as easily as they flew into it. Any anger he had had was swiftly snuffed out upon seeing Hayner’ face, the way his own frustration flittered away to fear.

            His heart hammered away in his chest, like it was trying to escape.

            “I—I’m sorry, Hayner, I…” he hesitated to even be near him.

            Hayner tightened his mouth to keep it from frowning too much, but instead he pressed his lips into a strong grimace. “Are you really so angry that I – we care about you?”  
            “No, I…” he knelt down, to be more on Hayner’s level and to stop looming over him as he just had. “…every time you ask, I am only ever confronted with what I don’t know, and that leads me into my worst fears – I don’t…” the words escaped him, trailing off into silence.

            Hayner paused for a time, perhaps a long time, perhaps not much time at all, then spoke, “I can’t pretend to know what it’s like, not knowing who you are… and I get it. It’s a lot easier to get angry at something than let it scare you. But… is it worth pushing away the people who care around you, that want to help?”

            There was nothing he could say. Though there was a part of him that wanted to lash again, he could not. Some words managed to take the teeth from his bite, leaving him with no point to argue for other than on the grounds of his own pride – but pride didn’t really seem to be the thing driving him, at that moment.

            Something unsettled him.

            “I… sorry. We should go home” Hayner quickly said, turning swiftly and not waiting for a reply. He stood up to walk after.

            _Don’t apologize to me_ , he thought. The words failed to leave his mouth though, and for once it was not by his own rigidity.

            He was confused as to why his tongue seemed to loll in his mouth, at first, but then the word spun abruptly. He stopped moving, reaching a hand out for anything to lean on but there was nothing there to catch him, and so he fell rather heavily, unable to move fast enough to catch himself.

            He laid there, groaning and squeezing his eyes shut, but the feeling of spinning still gripped him. He could feel the grit of sandy dirt against the side of his face, and he was pretty sure he’d eaten some too. Had it not been slightly concerning, he would have been more frustrated.

            It was like the ground had been taken out from under him, but not in a physical sense. Like he’d been wrestling something for a long time, but now he was losing – almost like he’d been sick but hadn’t noticed. It had never been apparent beforehand though, just a feeling somewhere deep down – like he wasn’t meant to be… there.

            A sudden pain seemed to go through his skull once more, like it had a long time ago. Dull but not _quite_ as painful.

            When he slowly opened his eyes, he saw Hayner bending down to look at him, worry lining his whole face.

            He grunted and pushed himself up, rubbing his eyes. It cleared away the stabbing pain and the dizziness but he felt dazed and tired.

            “What happened?” Hayner asked, lightly helping him up, but his hands seemed to do more flitting around, as though he were afraid Terra would electrocute him.

            “Not sure, but can we go home?”

            “Yeah, just uh… let me help you…”

            “If you can reach”

            Hayner stuck out his tongue and scoffed. Terra had to do a considerable amount of bending down in order to lean on Hayner at all, but the help was appreciated.

 

            Hayner ordered him to get some rest, which he didn’t argue with. He laid down on the couch, for a while just idling between half paying attention to the TV and skimming his second anatomy book.

            He’d found what he’d gotten it for in the first place. The diagram of the nervous system reminded him of a tree in some ways – the main body splitting into branches and roots, which had their own filaments that branched off. Most importantly though, it was a striking resemblance of the marking down his back.

            Though, he couldn’t say he could pay much more attention to it. He wasn’t bored, and he knew he’d pick it up later, but he was tired. Very tired, more tired than he think he’d ever been. And cold too – freezing almost. He shivered during dinner and wrapped himself with the biggest blanket that Hayner’s mother had.

            He decided to lay on the couch again, because the first room was the warmest, and began dozing off, something that felt sort of strange for him.

            What woke him up the first time was the cat coming to hang out with him. It walked all over him looking for the perfect spot, but he knew that if it tried to sleep on his side or next to him it’d fall off the couch at some point. He lifted it up, rolling onto his back and allowed it to knead on his stomach despite the fact its little claws poked through the blanket. He tried not to laugh as it tickled him, though he wasn’t sure if he could because of just how tired he was.

            Eventually it decided to lay down, then stretched out and pushed a paw across his mouth. He blew air at the offending limb until the cat moved it.

            He dozed off again to be woken up to rummaging through the kitchen.

            “What’re you doing up?” he asked.

            “It’s, like, nine. It’s not _that_ late.”

            He mumbled something – something about it feeling later than it was – then pulled the blanket closer to his nose once more, feeling the pull of slumber once more. 

            Normally sleep sort of just hit him, and suddenly it was morning. Then though, he flitted back and forth between semi-conscious and asleep. He didn’t know why he was bothering with fighting rest off though, and eventually he allowed himself to sink into slumber. He was comfortable, and slowly getting warmer.

            As he drifted off to sleep once more, he thought back on his walk. As unpleasant as it had been, Hayner was… probably right. He wasn’t sure if there was any help that they could provide, but even so…

            He could think more about everything that concerned him tomorrow. He felt… odd, though, still.

 

            He was in a place he recognized. It was dusty and cragged, high walls of red stone tower between flat cracked plains. These parched lands were covered in keyblades, embedded in the ground with their handles pointed towards the sky as if awaiting their owner’s return.

            Everything felt empty and hollow. The wind was dry and nearly antagonistic – it seemed to whip dust and heat against his face as if urging him to leave.

            Unsure of what else to do, he let his feet guide him. The sun beat down, but it’s attacks felt futile somehow, their harshness stripped away by something unseen. In fact, he felt neither hot nor cold, and no longer did it seem the angry gales own strength could do anything to him.

            He went through a narrow chasm to what would have been a large open plain, had it not been for the sudden spiring rock towers.

            When he blinked, he was at the top of the highest spire. It was jarring at first, but then came two emotions that blew his surprise out of the way – perhaps the greatest sense of familiarity he had ever felt, but a monumental emptiness that made him fall to his knees.

            It left him breathless, but he had no breath – when he tried to open his mouth it was not there, nothing was. He was nothing. Empty, abyssal, nothing. It felt new, new like an open wound. He felt new – fresh absence, but not discovered. Made. Born, but born in the way rage is. Cinders smoke and spark and then a fire catches and becomes uncontrollable, the hotter it gets the more it could burn for fuel.

            But there was no heat to this flame, for it was nothing. It was bitter and lashing and yet absent. Empty, but he knew the feeling so well it was like he had never forgotten it at all.

            Still, though, it scared him. Truly, for once, he felt afraid. But there was no rapid heartbeat in his ears, no stealing of his breath as his throat closed or his jaw tightened. He wasn’t even sure if he could see, if it was more like he was a presence with no existence. Watching, waiting, and still. Violent and lashing but meaningless, much like the wind or the sun.

            Though it felt like eons he was stuck like that, suddenly he was elsewhere. Back on the orange train car, in the depths of twilight, staring across to his double.

            Panic held him once again, briefly overshadowing the barrenness.

            “You—just tell me who you are, please?” he asked.

            But his double did not answer, and the train went under a tunnel and they both disappeared in shadow.

 

            He tried – he tried to wake himself up. But no amount of terror would seem to stop this, and so he decided he’d just have to wait this out.

 

            The feeling of movement stopped, and he was made to stand up. The darkness was endless, depthless in all directions – it would have gone on forever, he would have thought. Perhaps it did, perhaps it always had, or perhaps the shadows seemed much longer than they really were.

            Regardless, when he looked around he found nothing to disturb the dark. He did not wish to wander, in fear of where he may have gone, and so he stayed put. He did think, though, for a moment, to try and gather his composure.

            He still felt the same feeling. He’d always felt that way, he knew. Unwanted, unasked for, absent – and yet, present in another way, like a memory. It had been an easy feeling to put away, once, but it hung in the back of his mind like the way stains did. It was not a feeling that came from people, though, it came from within. Deep within, and all around – but not from the people he’d met, from… there, everywhere. Places, planes of existence. Like he’d broken a rule of some sort by existing at all, even though it didn’t feel like he did. What were the ‘rules’ of existence anyway?

            He took a look around again, and found there was a small disturbance in the shadows – far off, there was light. Small and blurred, but there.

            He took off after it, any thread of light to pull him out of there would be welcome, but as he grew closer he saw that it took on a more human shape.

            He slowed down to stop, not but a few lengths away, from Aqua. How he knew her name was beyond him, but it rose immediately to his mind before anything else, and blew away any suspicions he may have had. A familiar face, someone from before.

            “Terra…?” she asked, voice filled with caution. She hesitated, not drawing any closer to him.

            It almost felt good to be recognized, but there was something… wrong.

            She paused, then drew slightly away. “No, you’re not him…”

            “Then who am I?”

            “A monster. Just look at yourself.”

            It looked down into the darkness, finding its reflection like that of water’s. But it was not the face it had come to know, but no face at all. Red lines woven together and coming apart – headless, just a cord coming from nothing. Branching, splitting off to the smaller filaments. Threads of being, pulsing with absence.

            It reached up to touch a face that was not there, and when it looked up it saw _him_ , having taken Aqua’s place.

            “Xehanort” it hissed.

            “Well, I’m glad to have found you finally. It wasn’t easy, and I can’t say you’ve found much better company, Terra” The old man laughed. He used the name it had come to know itself by, and yet it was not addressed to it.

            It sparked rage inside of him. Something deep down tried to lash out.

            They surged forth to strike him, but he dropped into the darkness like a stone through water. The world spun to catch them, throwing them through the deep.

 

            He awoke, heart beating in his chest. He felt cold, and clammy. The room he was in was sterile white, it smelled too clean like there was some underlying odor of ailment underneath.

            He rubbed his face. There was a slight numbness, but it went away quickly.

            What had happened… didn’t feel like a dream (not that he dreamed, but he felt like he knew what it was like), but it didn’t feel quite real either. He was in some place between, somewhere dim but not dark (except for the end), somewhere awash with grey.

            Grey… perhaps that was what he was. Like dusk, but without all the things that made it nice… the warmth of the sun or the radiant spectrum of color.

            This room certainly lacked both, he thought. It was so starkly white, piercing with a sort of bleached, spotlessness that was _too_ clean.

            Just something lingering.

            He let his eyes adjust before sitting up fully. When he did, there was a small amount of pressure that went through his head then dissipated. It didn’t hurt, it was just uncomfortable, but it did make him groan and rub his temples.

            He heard a small gasp from his side, and when he turned he saw Hayner’s mother rising out of her seat.

            “Whoa there, slow down kid” she spoke softly, laying her hand on his shoulder, gently persuading him to lay back down.

            “Where am I?”

            “The hospital, you uh. You gave us a bit of a scare, there, hon” she laughed, but it got watery in her throat. “It’s been a few days – hold on, let me get a nurse”

            She disappeared through the door, leaving him in the sickly smelling room with its too bright lights and dense air.

            He stared at the ceiling for a while. Like an empty bucket, he had been filled with a heavy sensation – unsureness. No longer did it feel like he was alone in his own skin, at least able to find some peace in isolation – perhaps he never had been alone, a thought which disquieted him all the more – and worse still, there was a growing certainty that the form he inhabited was not even his own.

            He swallowed a knot in his throat.

            Hayner’s mother returned, but it did little to help him feel better. He knew this person, the nurse, was probably a fine person, but he didn’t want them to touch him. He didn’t want anyone to touch him.

            But he couldn’t protest, not with the way Hayner’s mother looked like she was nearly in tears. So he held back, despite the growing feeling in his chest like he wanted to kick them in the jaw then leap out the window and run… somewhere, and endured the poking and prodding and questions. 

            Eventually the nurse left to go get someone else, but in the moments between Hayner’s mother nearly squeezed the life out of him.

            He felt a heaviness in his chest that did not come from her embrace – guilt, no doubt – that he very much wanted to push her away, and so he sat there, uneasy and tense and remorseful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sticks leg out* early Christmas gift? if you can call this a gift;;;  
> SO ye. here's a chapter. The ghost plant thing IS relevant I promise (just like the dandelion thing is)
> 
> If I can bring myself not to cringe really hard I will go back and do some more edits -- my writing process is sorta "okay that's good, but we gotta rewrite that" and sometimes things don't match because different trains of thought. Spelling errors come down to me typing too fast woops
> 
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	9. Oath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even when he takes time off Hayner can't seem to escape some form of tension... at least he got to go to the beach though.

            He slept on the couch that night, or rather laid on it for many hours. The kitchen’s low lights had been left on, casting a soft shadow over the side of the couch.

            No amount of dark nor time seemed to ease him to sleep, though.

            Hayner couldn’t help but think back on it – he’d felt something wrong but not clearly, and when he’d gone to wake him up in the morning he didn’t stir. He was cold to the touch, but he didn’t shiver. When he’d pulled an eyelid back his eyes were wide, but empty, and bloodshot, lolling to the back of his head. It sent an icy shock through him then.

            Terra didn’t look much better when he’d visited the day prior, either. He was miserable, first of all, and second of all he hardly said a word. He didn’t really seem like he was there, just… looking through him, past him.

            He was hoping that they got to talk again – maybe this time he’d open up a little bit more.

            Hayner shifted under the blanket, wriggling into yet another position that was maybe _just_ more comfortable than the last. His mom had told him to sleep in his room, but he wanted to be there if the hospital called for any reason, so despite the discomfort he’d stay there.

 

            It must have been around two in the morning that he heard the door unlock. He jolted off the couch and nearly fell onto the floor, expecting to have to put on his best horror scream if a murderer walked through the door but what he had not anticipated was Terra to walk through and stare at him.

            He jumped onto his feet. “You’re supposed to be in the hospital!” he whispered loudly – which seemed oxymoronic but he was trying to keep his voice down so he didn’t wake up the entire apartment complex.

            “I didn’t want to be.”

            He took in a deep breath and held it, balling his hands into fists and shaking them at Terra. He couldn’t tell if he was angry or astonished or some mix of both, but he did know if he opened his mouth he’d scream.

            Eventually he managed to calm himself down some, but he did walk over and shake Terra by the shoulders. “Dude you were literally half dead, what were you THINKING!”

            It wasn’t really a question he wanted Terra to answer.

            “Are you mad at me?” Terra asked slowly, cautiously. He was abnormally apprehensive – he seemed to draw himself away, but he didn’t fight back even though Hayner held on.

            His mouth gaped for a second, then he shook his head. “No… I’m not mad at you, just surprised. Since it’s, like, two in the morning.”

            “I hadn’t realized”

            “How did you even get here?”  
            “The train.”

            “You took the train all the way from the hospital – you don’t have any money for tickets on you”

            “No one saw me.”

            “So you’re telling me… you snuck onto a train… and walked all the way here?”  
            “I didn’t need to sneak, I just walked on.”

            Hayner blinked.

            It was then that he heard his mother’s bedroom door swing open, and before he could do more than turn his head to face towards the sound he heard her whisper-yell, “How did you get here???” before running through the hall and grabbing Terra by the wrists, twisting him in an odd way while Hayner still hung onto him.

            “The train.”

            She ran one hand through her hair, mouth slightly open. Her eyes gathered tears some, and threatened to roll down her face while she squinted at him, as if she wasn’t sure he was really there. She touched him again, patting down his arms to confirm she didn’t faze through him somehow.

            “Mom, stop that, that’s weird”

            “I just need to see if I’m dreaming”

            Terra pulled himself back a little more, and he could sense quite a bit of anxiety emanating from him. Rarely was it that Terra seemed as tense as he was, then.

            “Okay, alright, okay, uh – ” his mom rubbed her temples, thinking for a moment before deciding to take a seat on the ground. “How are you—how did you even leave the hospital?”

            He decided to follow suite, and soon they were all sitting on the floor in the low hazy light.

            “I just left, I didn’t want to be there anymore”

            “Terra, you’re very sick, you can’t just leave” she urged, leaning closer.

            He leaned away. “It’s nothing they can fix.”

            He and his mother exchanged glances.

            “Alright, that was slightly ominous, but I’ll let it pass for now”

            Terra scowled and look away from both of them, though upon further inspection he saw it was more like he was grimacing.

            He wasn’t really sure what to do with that – he couldn’t exactly ask “what does that mean” because he was entirely sure that Terra didn’t know either, at least not enough that he wanted to tell.

            “Terra, can I ask you something? – you don’t have to answer, but… Is there something that you’re not telling us? Is your name Terra? Do you remember anyone from before – before you answer though, I want you to know that that doesn’t… matter? It does, but it doesn’t matter to me. You’re always welcome here” his mom said, then continued, “as long as you didn’t kill anyone, of course” she laughed. It wasn’t a funny laugh, nor did it really ease the tension is strived for – maybe she was just anxious.

            “Um…” he pursed his lips, eyes wandering about the floor, “well, not… really. There are some things – I knew someone named Eraqus and Aqua, but I’m not really sure if I knew them” he placed his hand over his heart, still thinking or perhaps avoiding their eyes.

            “What do you mean?”

            “It’s difficult to explain. I’m not really sure how, but what I do know is that I don’t really feel like I’m supposed to be here…”

            “Here as in this building or…?”

            He said nothing in response, still looking away from them both. His hand closed into a fist.

            His mother took a deep breath in, “How about you get some rest. I can’t imagine it was easy getting all the way here.” She stood up and turned to him, “I’m assuming you don’t want to go to school tomorrow?”

            “Not really, no” he answered.

            She nodded. “Alright then. Go to bed, I’ll call in tomorrow.”

            He walked down the hallway, lingering by his door. “Are you going to bed too?”

            “Soon… I’m just thinking right now.”

            He nodded and slipped into his room, the cool air wafting over him as he entered. “Don’t stay up too late,” he said before he closed the door.

            He heard his mom chuff, but there was a certain fatigue to it. She was tired, he knew – between rushing Terra off because he was three-quarters dead, returning the hospital day after day, and going to work she deserved a good night’s sleep. Unfortunately though, there was a cloud hanging over that went beyond illness.

            What Terra had said was, at the very least, disconcerting. What did he know that he wasn’t saying? Who were those people he was talking about? Hayner knew some things his mom did not, but they did little to help him understand, and if anything only served to make him more confused.

            There was something unnatural about this, something that _did_ go outside what was ‘normal’ – but what? He did not know.

            Regardless of all his thoughts, he went to sleep quickly. In his dreams he was swathed in dark, but there was something with him.

            It pulsed to life, but in the same way that a light did when the switch was flipped. Alive in the way the TV screen was warm, the sensation the glow gave when fingers drew close. Alive in a synthetic way, a made way, a way that when considered made natural things… uncomfortable… why? Because it was unnatural for something that wasn’t truly alive to be so similar. To mimic, in some way, the vitality of real things.

            He couldn’t see it, but he knew it was there. There was no heart to pound in his chest but he still felt the twist of every nerve as anxiety ran down them.

            “Hayner” his mom’s soft voice filtered through the dark, parting it to the insipid light that filtered into his bedroom.

 

            “We’re doing what?”

            “Going to the beach. It’s a nice day; good weather, not much else to do – the exercise will be good too” she explained, smiling lightly.

            “Er, alright…” he trailed off, raising a spoonful of cereal to his mouth.

            “You don’t sound very excited.”

            “Just not what I was expecting was all.”

            He glanced up to look at Terra, who sat by the window looking out. He glanced back to look at him. He quickly looked back into his bowl and stuck the spoon into his mouth.

 

            It was quite a long walk down, but after setting up a small patch to sit on, towels laid out and umbrella set down, the impromptu day-off felt well deserved.

            The salty air came in with each roll of waves, washing in across the shore. Gulls and terns shrieked from the docks not so far away, the sand pipers darting across the wet sand and through the surf to pick out morsels.

            He sat down in the shade of the parasol, waiting for the sunscreen to dry. His eyes wandered around the beach.

            Because it was around noon in the middle of the week, the beach was relatively empty. There were a few, though, and due to that he felt slightly more self-conscious. There was neither the anonymity that came with a large crowd nor the safety of isolation, leaving him to instead feel like somehow he was sticking out.

            Or rather, not him, but Terra. It was kind of hard not to stand out when you were a head taller than most with silver hair.

            It didn’t so much make him feel embarrassed, or ashamed, because that was _dumb_ , but he knew that that sort of attention made Terra uncomfortable. Why, who knew – for someone who didn’t care much for what people thought of him he disliked people immensely. Maybe they annoyed him.

            His thoughts were interrupted by fingers snapping in front of his face.

            “Terra to space cadet, did you hear me?”

            He pushed his lips together, out some, almost pouting. “You made a joke” he noted.

            Terra made a flat face at him. “I am capable of it.”

            “What’dya say, anyhow?”

            “I was asking what you wanted to do.”

            “Oh, uh. Have you ever built a sandcastle before?”

            “Why would you build a castle out of sand?” Terra said with the sort of flat tone that _could_ have been entirely sincere.

            His mom laughed, though.

            “You deserve sand down your shorts for that joke” he huffed, marching off towards the water. He heard his mom laugh again.

            He wasn’t really mad, but he did decide he needed a little time to cool off.

            There was a slight jolt when the waves washed over his toes, but he acclimated quickly to the relative cold of the ocean as he moved farther out. Eventually he reached a depth he felt comfortable at and turned to float on his back.

            He remembered when he was little, his mom had tried to teach him how to swim – she’d hold him up but he’d wriggle back into the shallow end of the pool because one time she let go and he got water up his nose and it’d stung his throat. Eventually, though, with enough patience on her end he learned how to rest on top of the water. It was always a little scary at first, but now it seemed like he may as well always known.

            His brother was the one to teach him after that.

            He took a deep breath and threw himself below the waves until he touched the bottom, gripping the sand with his fingers with the rest of his body trying to float away. He felt around for shells or rocks – anything to bring back.

            Having found a suitable stone – one that was smooth on one side but striated on the other – he returned to shore. It almost felt colder to be out of the water than it, and there was a strange jump between the freedom of movement beneath the waves to then trying to trudge through them back ashore.

            He was halfway up the beach when he heard a familiar voice, one that made his gut twist.

            “Hey, Hayner.”

            He turned. One of his brother’s friends – older, obviously, but no amount of time could allow him to forget. Some people, when they get older, are unrecognizable, but there was a lazy self-satisfaction that clung to him.

            “Hey…” he mumbled back. It felt like he was a kid again and not in the fun, careless way. The sort of way that meant he could only watch his brother walk out the door.

            “Decided to skip today?” There was nothing wrong with his tone of voice, of course. He was friendly but it felt slimy, tainted.

            “Not on purpose. School’s almost over anyway” he explained. His heart beat just a little bit faster with every passing moment.

            “Why don’t you come hang out with me and your old bro’s other friends, it’ll be good to catch up.”

            He didn’t know what to say. There was a strong part of him that wanted to hiss ‘fuck off’, kick sand in his face and take off running, but there was an equal part of himself that just wanted to go along, get over with it. He knew he’d get pushed into agreeing.

            “I…”  
            “Hey, Hayner” Terra’s voice cut through his anxious thoughts.

            “Who’s this?” the man questioned, squinting at Terra.

            “Um, yeah Terra?” he ignored him, turning around. He didn’t know how else to, but silently he pleaded that he would somehow get him out of this.

            “Is he bothering you?” he asked. His eyes flickered away from Hayner’s face.

            “Excuse you?” the interloper huffed.

            Terra said nothing, but he was pretty sure the look he gave could have skewered someone. That sort of half-lidded gaze, the tilt of the head downwards to look at someone and ask _“really?”_ – A venomous look. It didn’t help he was looking _down_ at the trespasser.

“Um, don’t worry about it” he fumbled through. He didn’t know why he said that (not that it sounded particularly convincing) but words had a way of spilling out when he was afraid.

            Terra put a hand on his shoulder, “your mom wants to talk to you, anyway.”

            “Um. Alright”

            He quickly shuffled past, firm grip on the stone in his hand. He didn’t turn to watch at first but he could hear them speaking, or more rather he could hear his brother’s friend get pissy with Terra. But getting pissy with Terra was like getting mad at a brick wall;

            “What the hell was that about?”

            “You made him uncomfortable.”

            There was a flat indifference to the anger.

            He hesitated, turning around, lingering a few feet away.

            “Listen, bud, I know him” he jabbed a finger near Terra’s face.

            Without pause Terra’s hand snapped up, gripping him around the wrist. “Do not talk to me like that.” It wasn’t so much a tone of command, more of _‘if you put that finger in my face again I will break your arm’_

            “He wants to be left _alone_. If there’s an ounce of self-preservation in you I _suggest_ you go back wherever you came from.”

            Normally when people are angry, there’s a slight blush around the cheeks. Maybe it spreads to the rest of the face and down the neck, even to the shoulders if one is angry enough, but he seemed to turn pale. A little blood gathered below his nose, but he either didn’t care or hadn’t noticed.

            “Uh, dude… you feeling okay?”

            “Don’t pretend to care about me. Turn around and _go_.” With the bite of ice in his voice gone, he released the hand leaving the white outline of his fingers in the man’s wrist which quickly became red.

            They both departed, intruder lingering for a moment while his friends schooled closer to him.

            He returned, pressing one of his palms to his forehead. Hayner walked back with him, pressing his lips into a thin line.

            “Goodness gravy, did someone hit you?” his mom looked up from her book, nearly rising out of her chair, like she was going to go fight someone, but she had an idea. She turned, pulling her purse into her lap and rifling through it then thrusting forth some old napkins.

            “No.”

            He sat down slowly, like maybe he was dizzy or something. He sort of swayed for a second.

            “Don’t tilt your head back, just keep pressure on it for now.”

            A few moments passed. He looked more bored than anything, maybe still stinging a little at the provocation.

            “Are you okay?”

            “M’fine.”

            He exchanged a glance with his mom briefly, but there was that glassy eyed look that stayed on his face for a few moments. It passed, though, and soon they were just sitting there – mom trying to read again, Terra bleeding, Hayner trying to calm himself down some.

            Hayner laid back down, staring up at the sky. “You wanna get ice cream after you stop pouring blood out of your face?”  
            He heard Terra chuff. “Yeah. Do you want any, Mrs. Hayner?”

            “No, thank you though. Though I do need to get up and use the lady’s room.”

            “The ocean’s right there”

            She scoffed, smiling, “Gracious. You need some manners. Be more polite, like Terra.” Judging by her tone, he could imagine her elbowing Terra a little.

            “Yeah and I’ll ditch the hospital at two in the morning.”

            There was a bit of silence after that, a strange beat, in the way that people dance out of step even to songs they know.

            “That reminds me, how did you leave?” his mom asked, voice softening. “I know you said you got up and left but I would have thought…”

            “I got changed, left the room, told someone I was leaving and left. No one stopped me.”

            “That seems odd…” she noted, then began to stand up.

            “People are less aware than they’d like to believe.”

            “I guess so. Well, I should be right back”

            Hayner sat up again. He didn’t want to look at Terra directly, so he tilted his downwards and cast his gaze his way. While it was odd, the hesitance to look, it wasn’t uncommon. It was more common the weeks ago that they had first met, when looking Terra straight in the eye was highly discomforting – sometimes it was just like… trying to put two same charged magnets together. Repelling with a great amount of strength but no sort of edge.

            “Done bleeding yet?”

            He heard him huff through his teeth, his own sort of laugh. “Probably.”

            The feeling lifted.

            They left afterward, walking to the ice cream stand, buying some and leaving for the dock so no sand would blow into their dessert.

            “You always get sea-salt. Why is that?”  
            “It’s good.”

            “It can’t be _that_ good.”

            “Have you tried it?”

            “Well,” he began, “I haven’t. Salt doesn’t seem like that great a flavor.”

            Hayner mock-gasped, putting his hand over his heart. “You know it’s not exactly like that. Clearly you haven’t lived.”

            Terra rolled his eyes.

            “Next time we get ice cream, you’re getting one.”

            “Alright, if it gets you to stop pestering me.”

            He smiled wirily and took a bite, which made Terra shudder.

            “What?” he asked, then took another bite. Before Terra could answer him though, he smiled again. Apparently someone had sensitive teeth, because he shuddered again, frowning.

            “You are… such a pain. This is what I get for getting you ice cream.”

            “Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me.”

            He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

            It was mostly quiet after that. The waves fell against the beach, sea birds cried, the popsicle began to melt and the sticky sugar water dripped down his hands which he licked off afterwards to keep sand from clinging to it, though it had mixed a little with the sunscreen he’d put on earlier giving it a faint bitter taste.

            “Mm. _Gross_ ” he stated, spitting.

            They threw out their trash and returned to their beach spot.

            “Do you mind if I ask you a question?” he nearly mumbled.  
            “Go ahead.”

            That felt weird. He almost wanted to say, _who are you and what did you do to Terra_ , but he knew it’d only earn him a flat look. “If you remember everything, do you think you’d leave?”

            He blinked. “I don’t know… but I think if I did, I’d come back… if I could, at least.”

            “If you _could_?”

            “If you haven’t noticed, I am sick. I’ve _been_ sick.”

            He swallowed.

            “Ah, sorry about that… I think I’m too serious for this kind of thing” he laughed a little nervously after that. “Extenuating circumstances aside, and if I do remember anything… I promise I’ll come back, alright?”

            He nodded, a little slow, but he allowed himself to believe him.

            “So, about that sandcastle…?”

 

            It was getting towards the time they needed to start back home. The sand castle was neatly finished and quite a bit bigger than he’d ever built before. He’d never spent enough time at the beach to shape something so elaborate, and he had Terra’s help.

            It wasn’t exactly a masterpiece – it was a sort of citadel with a significantly larger mound in the middle adorned with more sea shells and twigs and cast off seaweed than a mermaid costume. None of the mounds were especially uniform and they were too far up to beach for any water to get into the moat and it wasn’t like he’d brought a bucket or anything.

            Still, though, he was proud of it. And also excited for his favorite part…

            “What do we do with it now?” Terra asked, sitting off to the side.

            He delivered a swift kick and the castle was gone.

            For once, he’d taken the words out of Terra’s mouth. He stared at the destroyed hill of sand with his mouth half open.

            “I can’t believe you.”

 

            “How are _you_ not sunburnt?” he whined.

            “Because I put on sunscreen when your mom told me to” he huffed, swiftly opening the medicine cabinet doors and scanning through its contents before pulling out a small tube of aloe cream. “Let me get your neck, you big baby”

            “I am not a baby!”  
            “Uh-huh.” Before he could put another word in Terra more or less slapped his back with the burn salve, at one moment relieving but incredibly painful.

            “Why would you do that?!” he winced.  
            “That was for the sandcastle.”

            “You’re a bastard, you know that?”

            “Well you’re stuck with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *poses* here's another chapter. We're getting very close to the end. If I did my math right there's ~2ish more chapters left.  
> I wish I could say that it gets better but HMMMMmmmmno. Sorry Hayner.  
> Originally I had planned this from Terra's perspective, but I found it didn't really work (especially for what I'm planning) but I thiiiink I got what I was trying to convey so hey. Everything works out in the end, sometimes.  
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	10. Heart Cooks Brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to make sense of the nonsensical -- trying to put together a puzzle when you're missing half the pieces, without the completed picture for reference.  
> Trying to make sense of a lot of things, with a lot of conflicting feelings.

            The grocery store was blaring white despite its shelves being stocked full of colorful boxes and bags – eye catching, and yet in so much abundance that the white tiles of the floor and ceiling became somehow more interesting.

            It was also mostly vacant – he assumed most people didn’t go shopping since it was time for dinner. Hence why Terra was there.

            He may as well have swung by to get whatever it was Mrs. Hayner needed, and so he peered through the list and grabbed what he believed she wanted.

            When approaching the front counter, it took a few moments to be noticed. The woman behind it looked surprised when the groceries appeared on her stand, looking past him for a second and behind herself to her coworker stocking the shelves, before he cleared his throat.

            “Oh—goodness, how did I not see you there?” she said, looking up at him.

            “It’s fine.”

            She nodded, but it was clear she was a little more than just _surprised_.

            He paid and left. He could hear her asking the coworker if they’d seen him and they said _“who?”_

            He almost felt annoyed, but it was more just prickling – not because his pride was hurt, more so because it _bothered_ him. This was becoming more common – while he’d been aware of it before, it seemed like more often he needed to flit about _more_ to get noticed. He would have been alright with it if the implications boiling in the back of his mind didn’t unsettle him so much.

            Though, after the hospital he didn’t really feel like he’d gotten the chance to resettle. Or maybe it was more like he’d never been fully comfortable, he just thought he was—

            Before he could go on further, he took a deep breath. He had friends, he had somewhere to go to. They cared, and it was not as though they could read his mind, anyway. His thoughts were safe, as were his suspicions.

            With his purchases, he made his way down the street. The air had cooled considerably since the sun had set – now that he thought about that, it was quite strange. Never once had the sky been blue the entire time he’d been there, and yet in all his memories the sky had been some blue shade.

            He decided to throw that thought into the pile of ‘things he could not yet explain but weren’t too pressing’ and knocked on the door to Olette’s home.

            He was allowed inside after a few brief seconds in which he could see Olette’s mother trying to remember who he was, gears turning. That aside, he was directed up the stairs.

            When he approached Olette’s room, he stopped at the door for a moment. It sounded like there was a lot of talking on the other side and he didn’t wish to bust through, so he idled by the door, turning his neck to search through the music player gifted to him. He spun an ear-bud around his finger while waiting, shifting his weight on his feet. Nothing caught his eyes as he scrolled through.

            It was not his intention to overhear. ‘Eavesdropping’ was at best rude, but so was speaking of someone when they weren’t around…

            “…have you tried asking Terra about it?”

            The mention of his name, or what was _probably_ his name―the name he was known by―may as well have rung a bell for his attention.

            “I did! But—well—he’s just. It’s just…whenever it’s us it doesn’t seem that weird. All the weird shit I notice becomes background noise, and when I _did_ ask him…he got real sick…” the words left unsaid fell off Hayner’s mouth and dispersed, leaving only their nervous energy.

            “That’s just a coincidence” Olette supposed, more soothing rather than explanatory.

            “I know that, but I don’t feel it, y’know? Like I feel like something’s been wrong for a while and for whatever reason I can’t see it, but I still know enough to want to do something about it. And, even if I did ask directly… if he did know, would he answer me honestly?”

            An unknown feeling washed over him. It tightened his throat and made his stomach twist in knots. He felt his face burn, and there was a dull noise in his mind – but it wasn’t really a sound. More like pressure, as his attention was focused to a fine point.

            He heard someone blow air out of their mouth, exasperated almost.

            “…I’m not nuts, right?” Hayner asked, phrasing so light and cautious as though it were trying not to break spring ice.

            “Um, no. I don’t think so. I kind of noticed it too, or rather I’ve been noticing it. I kind of forget about it, every time, but looking back on it…” Pence answered, equally as cautious.

            “No… I’ve kind of got that for a while now. Like, I dunno. Things feel normal, a little, for a little while but then there’s just moments where it…” Olette tried to explain, but without the words to fully do so she resorted to make a sort of crashing sound with her mouth. “It doesn’t feel solid…” Olette said carefully. “Like you reach out to grasp whatever feeling you get but it just slips out of reach. You’re just left feeling… _weird_.”

            “Like—the first I think of is that it’s hard to know when he’s there, or rather when he’s not, I guess. But it’s not obvious, I’ve never really questioned him being gone unless someone else asked. It’s not like I want him gone, though, but when he’s not there I just don’t notice. And the thing is, like, he’s this tall,” Pence paused, probably to lift his flattened hand up and emphasize his point, “and my _friend_. Maybe months ago I would have sorta understood but…you would think now I’d know when he’s not there. It just… never crosses my mind though.”

            “Do you remember when all that stuff with Sora happened? The blue trophy piece – it’s like that. It’s odd, but it’s not odd- _odd_ ” Hayner said with the sort of intonation like he was going to snap his fingers and go _a-ha_.

            “It’s not the kind of odd you can do anything for, mostly because it’s just sorta how it is” Olette phrased as a question.

            “Sorta, I guess? I—I really don’t know. I wouldn’t want to go ‘well, oh well, nothing can be done’… but, I don’t know what to do.”

Silence.

            His heart beat heavily in his ears, he could feel it in his chest. How it jostled, like a bird trying to escape a cage. He didn’t like it – nor did he like the warmth of his face, because it was only surface level. The rest of him froze, all the way down to his core. His eyes burned and a knot was in his throat, but he hadn’t the words to explain what that meant.

            What he did know was that he could not stand to hear another word, so he went across the hallway to the bathroom door and closed it behind himself.

            He took the moment to try and stop whatever it was that he was doing – breath hiccupping, how it halted in his throat as if to silence itself, and his eyes burning and welling with tears.

            Usually, when he was upset, he’d hiss and stew on it but the stoked flames would burn themselves into ash and smoke. But he felt – embarrassed? No. More than that, deeper, like the difference between a paper cut and a stab wound. Shame.

            Humiliated, but not in the way his honor had been besmirched. It was a different sort, like he’d been caught in a lie he hadn’t meant to be telling, except a thousand-fold worse with every passing second.

            They knew. They had _always_ known. Not even his thoughts were safe because he wasn’t… He didn’t know. There was a great oblivious wall that he’d built around himself; the unfortunate thing about walls is that you can’t see through them, as much as they protect you.

            He managed to get ahold himself, sort of, enough to stop crying. But it felt too easy, was the thing. There were degrees of separation between how he felt and how he _felt_ – how it was too simple to stop the flow of emotion because there was a part of him that was just… blank.

            But he couldn’t worry about that. He moved to clear the red from his face as he splashed it with cold water, only to look up again to see his shadow once more.

            He wasn’t _shocked_ , for their meetings had been on-and-off regular ever since he’d returned home. In mirrors, mostly, but any reflective object worked. It had become so common that he no longer physically reacted, instead tucking away the disconcerting feeling it caused and tried to play normal. This time, however, he didn’t stop himself from lashing out.

            “Why can’t you leave me alone?” he hissed, voice barely above the hum of the light overhead.

            But his double did not react. Just stared. Of course he did, that’s all he did. Judgement, silent disdain.

            He flicked off the light and stepped out of the room. He could feel his expression become heavy with a scowl, but it was between glowering and having his face flicker with the tension necessary to keep himself from dissolving once again.

            Without waiting to hear more, he pushed through the door. They all froze, trying to act nonchalant, but the jump between freezing up and pretending to have been relaxed was oblivious. Olette leaned backward too much, trying to act casual, and Pence seemed like he was trying to take the words out of his mouth by pressing his lips together, like if his mouth was closed tightly enough he could never have spoken at all. Hayner stared at him with blank eyes, trying to say something. They all stared.

 _Don’t look at mę. St_ _͜_ _o_ _̧_ _p_ ___͏_ _tha_ _͟_ _t_ _̡_ _. I_ _̕_ ** _hatȩ_** _thąt_ _͢_ _._ _̵_

            “What, did I interrupt?” he asked. A smile made its way onto his face, but there was a notable sharp edge.

            “Uh, no” Hayner answered. The line in his neck tensed when he glanced over to his friends.

            “Then let’s go, then. Your mother wants to start dinner.”

            He turned swiftly

            “Um, right, see you guys”

            “Bye Hayner” Pence and Olette said.

            He walked quickly, to put a little distance between himself and Hayner. Not to be cruel – at least, not consciously – but he needed a second to gather himself once more. He felt the formerly dim flames in his chest spark and crackle. Trying to burn brighter, more intense. Wanting to be angrier, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to, not fully.

            It wasn’t their fault. He was just… broken. Misplaced. Regardless, though, it hurt.

            “What’s with the power walk?” Hayner said, a little short of breath, jogging up to him but nearly falling behind once more once he slowed down. “Something on your mind?”

            Hissing. Hostile. Held back. “No.”

            He couldn’t tell for sure, since Hayner was in the corner of his eye, but he could sense he was beginning to have some ideas as to what was on his mind. Sure, he was doing exactly what Hayner had said he would, and just in general being an ass, but he didn’t feel like being so direct if no one else would.

            Nor did he want to admit it, right then. Or rather, never.

            “What, giving me the silent treatment then?” Hayner asked, but there was an underlying tautness to it. It did not come out the casual way Hayner would have said it had he not been suspicious, or perhaps feeling guilt.

            “No.”

            “He speaks” he joked, but that came out forced too.

            He couldn’t look at him; he didn’t want to know what kind of look he was being given, but his own scowl deepened.

            “You alright?” It was sincere, at least.

            “I’m fine.”

            “No one who says ‘I’m fine’ like that means it, even if they’re as weird as you”

            He felt a whip of flame unfurl. Brief, but bitter. _“Drop i_ _̡_ _t.”_

            Hayner let himself fall a little behind once more.

 

* * *

 

            When the door open and her boys stepped through, a wave of stress crashed into her home. She took one look between them to know something was up. Terra opened the door and let Hayner through. Hayner rushed past him, more or less, but Terra’s eyes followed him. His face was mostly blank (in stark contrast to her son’s) except his eyes. It was like a little cloud of tension was surrounding Terra and was trying to electrocute Hayner.

            She’d address it shortly, but first she’d need to gauge this. It required… care.

            “Thank you for getting groceries,” she said as Terra handed the bag to her, “Hayner, why don’t you help me with dinner?”

            “Okay” Hayner said, without protest – not even in jest. Not good.

            He shuffled out of the hallway and back into the kitchen. She could imagine the hairs on the back of his neck rising up when Terra passed him by on the way back to his room. He didn’t slam the door, but that didn’t mean he closed it softly either.

            “Jeez, what’d you do to make him mad?” she asked. There was a lilt in her voice – to ensure he didn’t take it as her getting mad at him too.

            “I’m… not sure.” Hayner did not make eye contact with her as he spoke.

            She hummed a ‘mhm’ and pulled the chives and carrots from the bag, taking a knife and a cutting board and putting in on the table. “Think you can cut these for me?”

            He nodded and went on ahead.

            While preparing the rest of dinner she meditated on what she was going to do. She didn’t want to stir the pot – well, the one in front of her she did – but she also didn’t want to just let it lie.

            Though, she also didn’t really know what was going on, and it didn’t look like Hayner was going to say anything at the moment. Which was fair. Rare was it that Terra got _mad_ mad. Maybe a bit annoyed, maybe even a little irritated, but not so much like this. Not at Hayner, certainly. The usual roll of the eyes, or flat look, was mostly just… play? Never super serious. This though… in the brief exchange that had occurred she could feel him bristle.

            Which, sure, wasn’t that uncommon either. Terra seemed to prickle at a lot of things—new people. People he’d met before but only, like, once. Being asked questions. Being left alone. Being in a group of too many people for long periods of time. Wide open spaces. Confined spaces (especially if in close proximity to more than two people.) Too little silence. Too much silence.

            The list went on, and that was just when he’d answered yes to coming along with her on errands. He’d held steadfast against most of these things because it’d been asked of him, because he’d felt it was worth it. Because it would over soon, he needed only withstand it for some period of time. But there was something chipping away at that kind of restraint and if she had to guess that was what had been spilling over now.

            She felt a bit bad for only noticing it then, but she put that aside. Perceptive as she was, she wasn’t a mind reader.

            “Dinner should be ready soon. How about you get Terra and set the table?” she asked.

            Hayner departed, a bit hastily, and hesitated at the door to Terra’s room. He knocked, opened it up a crack and mumbled through her instructions.

            _Honey_. She thought to herself. Often so bold, there were some things that limited that brashness, like worrying.

            Without words between them, Terra pulled everything off the table and put it elsewhere while Hayner put the plates and silverware down.

            It was her hope that maybe a good meal together would ease whatever was going on a little, at least. It was hard to be mad with good food in your mouth. It certainly wouldn’t make any problems go away but at any rate it would put a little time between them.

            So, shortly after she tested the pot to make sure it still wasn’t boiling hot, she stuck a ladle in it and called it done. For the first few minutes afterwards, there was quiet – not silence, because her boys were eating and she was waiting to see if they liked it.

            “So, what do you think?”

            “It’s good, Mom, nice job” Hayner gave her a big smile.

            “Thank you, Mrs. Hayner.”

            She felt a warm budding feeling in her chest – a little pride – which did help to ease the tension for the moment.

            Afterwards she ate. It was a little saltier than she planned, but good nonetheless.

            “So how was Olette’s? Did you guys have fun?” she asked after a while. It was an innocent enough question but she saw Terra stop, resting his wrist against the table. He looked away.

            “Yeah. We played some games n stuff.”

            “That’s good. Anything interesting happen?”

            “No, we just talked about stuff…”

            “What kind of stuff?”

            “Um… nothing interesting… just school… dumb stuff”

            “Right” she heard Terra mutter. The only thing saltier in the room was the noodles.

            There was a fine edge in those words.

            She made a popping sound with her lips, then said “Well I’m glad you had fun with your friends.”

            Like his mother, Hayner hurriedly stuffed a spoonful into his mouth, avoiding eye contact. She could see Terra glaring into his dinner, like maybe he was contemplating swiping it off the table.

            After time put some distance between all that, there was brief conversation between her and Hayner – he asked her about work, was all, but Terra excused himself early and left the apartment. With him went his storm cloud, but that did not mean it hadn’t left some rain behind.

            Once they had finished dinner, she and Hayner washed dishes together. She figured then would be the best time seeing as he couldn’t escape – well, he could. She wouldn’t trap him in a conversation he really, _really_ did not want to have, but neither would she give him an easy out… unless he wanted to dry dishes in his room or something.

            “So, what happened?” it was a little blunt, but Hayner didn’t really like to beat around the bushes if she had a question for him.

            The lines in his neck grew taut and he flattened his mouth into a line. “I think he heard me and the others talking about him… I said something to upset him.”

            “You know it’s rude to talk about people behind their back, right?”

            He sighed. “It’s not like that.” She wasn’t sure how much she believed that, but regardless;

            “But you said something you think you shouldn’t have” she said softly.

It wasn’t a judgment call – that wasn’t hers to make. Sure, she could disapprove, but Hayner wasn’t a little kid anymore. If she lectured him it wouldn’t so much teach him what he did wrong and more just tell him not to tell her what he did again, and that wouldn’t help anyone.

            She wished she’d learned that the easy way, but that was a thought for a different day.

            “I—maybe, but it wasn’t like―it wasn’t like we were calling him an asshole behind his back, or like saying we didn’t want to be his friend or whatever” he clarified, “it’s just kind of like. It’s been weird for a while, a long time, and I don’t mean ‘isn’t it weird that nothing rhymes with silver?’ way,” he changed his voice for his first rhetorical question, “I mean, like ‘mysterious bruise’ or ‘noise in the middle of the night coming from the wall’ kind of weird” he explained further, this time not modifying his speech. “Like there’s a part of me that wants to go Occam’s razor and just logic it away but there’s just all this stuff that’s just―”

            “Whoa there sweetie, take a breath”

            He let out a long sigh, taking a moment to breathe deeper again. “You know that feeling, at night, when you’re outside… the streetlights are all this hazy orange, and they don’t really light up the dark so well, so you start seeing things. But like, nothing’s actually in the dark, right? But it doesn’t stop you from walking home faster.”

            “Are you scared of him?”

            “No—no it’s not like that. But there’s something under the surface that’s messing with me – but it’s not him. It’s not really anything he does, well, not really, it’s just… this constant thing. And I’m not the only one – I don’t like thinking this way, because it’s rude and it’s mean but… there’s something I can’t see that’s lingering there. All the time.”

            She nodded, but she wasn’t sure she really understood. It wasn’t a straight forward answer – so common in life – but it didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try.

            Being older, she couldn’t say she was ever afraid of Terra, more often than not it was _for_ him – but there was a truth to what Hayner had said. There was something a little weird. Granted, she often deliberately ignored it – benefit of the doubt, and all – but if there was ever a moment she was struck by the strangeness of it all it was when he came back. No explanation – well, not really – just… appeared. Like a ghost, unbothered and yet unsettled. How he moved around silent and with his presence greatly diminished – as though if he was all there he would have greatly disturbed some kind of equilibrium. But, upon reflection, it kind of always seemed like that.

            That and all the other little things served to unbalance her.

            She chose her words carefully, though. “Sweetie…” she turned to face him. “I understand where you’re coming from… but I think you did hurt his feelings. I know you didn’t mean to, and I know you didn’t intend for those words to hurt – probably because you figured he wouldn’t hear them – but… I would still tell you to apologize. He doesn’t really know who he was for the most part, and if there’s some underlying business then, well, maybe that’d make anyone act strange. Maybe that’s what’s bothering you.”

            “I know, but... it’s not _him_. It’s something else that’s… around him”

            She furrowed her eyebrows. It wasn’t a critical look, and there was something in her that understood. She just couldn’t grasp it, though.

            “But… I will say something to him. I am sorry”

            She kissed the top of his forehead. “Don’t apologize to me, there’s no need.”

 

            She kissed Hayner goodnight and slid a jacket over her shoulders. She locked the door behind her and set out into the dark – Hayner was right about the street lights, though she’d known that for a while. Freaky, but as she climbed to the top of the hill they died away until everything was mostly illuminated with starlight.

            “Mind if I sit here?” she asked. She figured he wouldn’t have gone far.

            Terra didn’t move much, staring up at the stars, except his eyes. They flickered to follow her, if only briefly.

            She took it as a yes and sat beside him. He did little to acknowledge her at first, and so she chose to stargaze. She didn’t really know much about stars – she never really had a good eye for constellations and all that. But they were pretty. The night sky reminded her a bit like a field. Each point of light its own flower, together making an innumerous array of quiet beauty.

            After taking in what peace could be brought from the night sky, she moved to act.

            “Mind if we talk? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

            “You say that a lot.”

            “Well, I figure you either are or are nearly a grown-ass man. I think you can decide when you do or don’t want to talk about something.”

            She heard him chuff, but it wasn’t so friendly. A little bitter, a little sad. “That’s fair” he said plainly. “I don’t really want to talk, but… I suppose I should.”

            “Wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

            “It could.”

            She laughed. She saw him smile a little, but it was still a little sad. Tired, is how she’d described it.

            “So, what happened?”

            He let out a sigh, but partway through she heard the sound begin to get blocked by a lump in his throat. “I—um. Well,” he kept stuttering like that, because putting the words together to answer her question hurt.

            “I… overheard some things when I went to take Hayner to your apartment. I wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to, but, um, yeah…”

            “Were you mad at them?”

            “I—it wasn’t their fault. When you don’t feel like… or for some reason you can’t talk to someone you’re sort of just left to think on it on your own.”

            He took a breath. “It’s funny, almost. I feel like I’ve been in a similar position before. Like I’ve walked away when someone needed to talk to me, but I was too stupid to stop and turn around. And then it was too late”

            There was a deep, abyssal sincerity in those words. Entirely and unwaveringly genuine. He was nothing if not forthright.

            “I can’t blame them for not understanding because I don’t really get it either. I’ve never understood anything, I just sort… go. Regardless of direction, even if it leads me over the edge. But I can’t seem to change that.”

            A rather vivid image made itself appear in her mind: the little toys of her youth, when she’d turn the crank until it would click in protest for it could be wound no further, and she’d wait and see how far it’d go. It’d careen over the sides of tables and chairs and fall on its side on the floor, moving its feet but not going anywhere.

            She leaned a little closer, hoping that maybe he’d look into her eyes and know that she cared, but he wouldn’t. “So you don’t feel like you’ve got any control, is that it?”

            “Yes.”

            Despite how softly he spoke, she could feel the sort of strain that came with agreeing aloud. Like he was trying to hold back an ocean of feelings associated with that. Perhaps if he spoke too loudly he’d shatter whatever control he had.

            She nodded and looked away for a moment, to allow him to speak further or perhaps because if she looked too much longer she’d begin to cry.

            “I’m not sure how to explain it, but there’s… separation between some of my feelings. Most of them. Whenever I… smile or laugh or anything, there’s always just a very tiny part of me that doesn’t feel it. It’s more like I’m replaying a memory, over and over again. I’m afraid one day I’ll wear that out.”

            “You can’t wear out a memory”

            “They distort over time though, don’t they? Things change color. People’s faces get blurred. Lights get brighter, but hazier too. There’s gaps you can’t fill in anymore. Every time you access a memory, it changes just a little.”

            She was quiet for a little while after that. It was true, but…

             “I was always told to follow my heart, but I’m fairly certain that’s just burning my mind. Except, when I try… to use logic, because I’m sure some part of me knows the whole truth, it just hurts my heart.”

            She saw a little droplet hit the ground by his feet – but the sky was clear, and so she looked over to see tears streaming down his cheeks. But there was still a torrent of emotions being held back, despite cracks furling through the barrier between them.

            She saw him place his hand over where his heart would be. “I… don’t think I was meant to… be here. Or anywhere. This isn’t… this isn’t mine”

            “Terra…” she took that hand from him, folding it into her own.

            He sniffled, but after a brief moment of hesitation he looked up at her.

            “You’ve been too nice to me, I don’t deserve it” he pulled his hand away. “All I’ve done is scare your kid and his friends, and anyone else who’s met me. I’ve made you worry and―” It became more difficult to speak after, so he didn’t.

            “Hey now, it’s not like that”

            “Then what _įs_ _̡_ _͏_ it like?” Despite the intensity, there was no heat in his voice. It was desperation, it was fear.

            She placed her hand against her own heart, her free hand reaching across to take his once more. “We _chose_ to care about you, Terra, because we wanted to. And when we’re afraid, it’s not of you, it’s _for_ you. And sure, I know that doesn’t make you feel any more certain about your situation, but never once has that uncertainty made me feel like I wanted to get away from you.”

            “I won’t pretend to fully understand what it’s like – some of it, but I do know what it’s like to have your heart and your brain telling you different things… for now all I can say is, listen to both. Sooner or later something will happen and you’ll make the choice, but until then you don’t have to be so alone, alright?”

            She opened up her arms and, cautiously, he allowed himself to be hugged. At first it was all stress, but quickly it gave way. The wall crumbled and he dissolved into tears – and they weren’t little tears. Big sobbing waves, but it seemed like trying to empty out a lake with nothing but chipped mug.

            She stroked the back of his head and just… let him go. Dear lord, for as long as he needed to even if it was seemed like forever.

            Those kinds of feelings, in such intensity, were infectious – beyond just sympathy it was very difficult to not cry because of, well, everything.

            She’d be probably pretty prickly too if that’s how she felt all the time. Because that kind of insecurity was difficult to look in the face – you couldn’t, not every day. It didn’t make everything passable, of course, but that was a given – it just… made sense.

            He shuddered again, and she reached her hand up to the back of his neck so he’d hold still.

            Something strange happened though—first, it felt like she was being shocked. Then an image flashed through her mind – fast, almost too fast to read. It was someone standing in what looked like… crags? Desert? She wasn’t sure, but the landscape was far and away from anything she’d ever seen herself.

            They pulled apart after that. There was a weird tingling sensation in her fingertips, which she ignored.

            “Did I shock you?” she asked.

            “No—I’m fine” his voice was surprisingly monotone. His eyes looked glassy for a second as he rubbed the back of his neck.

            “Do you want to go home?”

            “Yes…”

            The walk back was significantly less panic-inducing, but she did feel… followed. But not in the same way that came from just walking around in streets at night – no, it was… very different.

It was as though some faint and far off song was trying to be communicated to her, the wavelengths getting muddier each time they bounced off something until she was left with something unintelligible, but persistently the message was sent.

            She didn’t really know what that meant, but soon they were back inside the apartment building.

            They made their way up the stairs and down the hallway, to which she gave Terra the keys. He hesitated for a second, but walked inside and held the door open for her.

            Before crossing the threshold herself, she looked behind briefly – to listen and make sure someone _really_ wasn’t following them.

            Her first thought was yes, upon seeing someone at the end of the hallway, which lit panic inside her heart, but after not even a second passed she realized that it was Terra—sort of. Exact same height and build, but different. Brown hair, different clothes.

            But what struck her most was that he did not move. Completely static, as in _completely_. Like the world had frozen. The eyes were dark – chin down, but looking up. He looked like he was trying to ask her something, but could not open his mouth.

            She gasped, and blinked rapidly. He was gone.

            It was more reflex that led her back into the house. What had just happened? What in the _world?_ It caused great anxiety – her heart beat faster and her mouth dried. She didn’t shriek only because it seemed like the words had been ripped out of her lungs, and though the moment had passed it still felt like she would never find the words.

            While she floated around, taking off her coat and shoes, she caught a glimpse of the clock on the oven’s timer – two-twenty-two a.m. The reminder that time was a thing snapped her out of her daze.

            “Holy cannolis its two in the morning!”

            “Did you actually just say ‘holy cannolis’?” Terra asked flatly.

            “I did. I think that means its way past time to go to bed.” _Amongst other things._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a VERY long chapter -- 18 pages! Its been a long time since I've wrote THAT much. I also rewrote the first half like three times and the second half twice, but I wanted to get this done before February.  
> Also, I realized in the process of writing that there were not two chapters left but 4 (3 now that this chapter is done), because I got ahead of myself + I underestimated how much writing I'd need to do to get from point A to point B (partially why this is 1 chapter and not 2). So yes, we're hurtling towards the end (just not as fast as I'd thought) --  
> but yes. Lots of complicated feelings. not very easy when you may or may not have your own heart... and when you're falling apart.
> 
> edit: changed cover from chapter 1
> 
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	11. The Dandelion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something wicked this way comes.  
> (The question is, was it always there?)

            Before Hayner could go anywhere, he pinched the back of his shirt. The surprising end to his forward motion made him let out a yelp fit for a puppy.

            “Not so fast” he said, rather flatly.

            He heard Hayner groan. “Where did you even _come_ from?”

            Terra chuffed.

            Hayner turned around to face him, putting his hands on his hips and tapping his foot. “What now, anyway?”

            “If you remember, your mom wanted you to study before messing around.”

            Hayner huffed. “Fine.”

            “Sorry dude” Pence said, walking to the other side of the schoolyard.

            “What good is it gonna do now anyway? The last test is tomorrow”

            He folded his arms.

            “Ugh, fine.”

            They sat by the chain-link fence, Hayner giving one longing look to the opposite end of the playground before turning his head back to shoot a pouty-glare, then gave a similar look to the open binder in his lap.

            They sat in silence for a while. He made sure Hayner had actually read, Hayner scanned each page then flipped it over. It was… fairly boring.

            “You know what would make this more interesting, and perhaps a bit more useful?” he asked, leaning back. The bits of gravel and broken asphalt dug into his palms.

            Hayner glanced up.

            “When you finish a chapter, explain it to me. Sometimes it helps to try and teach something to someone else when you want to learn.”

             Hayner nodded, bouncing his head a little while his eyes wandered upwards. “Alright I guess.”

            “Listen, I may not understand why you need to prove a triangle is a triangle, but I can listen.”

            “ _Sometimes_.”

            He pushed air out of his mouth, almost laughing, but it got caught in his throat and he coughed for a while instead.

            “Damn dude, are you sick?”

            He shrugged, and spoke quickly. “Whatever, just read.”

            Hayner’s eyes lingered on him a moment, but moved on.

            “Alright, well. When a nerve cell wants to send a message—first there’s gotta be some sort of stimulus, like touch or heat or danger. The outside of a cell is positive, the inside is negative and it’s kept that way with a pump – it’s uh, sodium and potassium, I think. The stimulus causes mechanical gates to open and this lets the ions through, which opens the voltage channels and more ions go through and this depolarizes the cell – am I losing you? Nervous system stuff is complicated.”

            “No. What do you think I’ve been reading for the past few monthes?”

            “Oh, yeah.” Hayner blinked. “Uh, after that it goes down the axon and then to the end where it sends a signal for another cell to do the same until it gets to where it needs to be, like a muscle. There’s more to it than that but if I went all-in depth we’d be here for a while. But uh—it can go wrong. If a message keeps firing the muscle or whatever will just keep contracting…”

            Hayner did a fair amount of talking with his hands. He’d look into the sky and move his finger as if pointing to a piece of text, sometimes pausing and closing his hand into a loose fist while his eyes wandered some more. When he finished speaking, he gave Terra a thumb’s up.

            “So, that help any?”

            “Well, I’m not sure. I’ll find out tomorrow, but I think at the very least I’ll remember this conversation.”

            So, for a little while after that they did the same thing. There was, however, a building discomfort in the back of his throat

            “Alright, well. That’s good enough for me. Go have fun,” he waved his hand to send Hayner off.

            “Cool, thanks” Hayner more or less leapt onto his feet, sprinting across the black-top and neatly slipping into the ongoing basketball game, evening out the teams.

            He let out a sigh, then allowed himself to hack out another terrible cough. Coming from deep in his chest, it made sort of watery crackling sound. It also lasted quite a bit, until eventually he grew too tired to continue doing so.

            Despite how he wanted to lay down, he knew that would only settle the fluid and he’d cough once more. So he pushed himself against the fence, folded his arms in front of himself, and decided it was time for another nap, the third of the day which wasn’t that rare ever since that night when he’d cried.

            After a brief chill, he was out.

 

            He was standing at the edge, overlooking the valley. It was deep into the night. Stars fell, dazzling cinders shooting across the sky. There was a conversation going on – but he couldn’t decipher it. All noise, just fuzz – or perhaps, more like a song. A song that he didn’t have the ability to interpret. He could see, but the world seemed to skip. Sometimes it’d jump forward, then back, then forward again, leaving an incomprehensible mess of sights and sounds and feelings, but it was the things that he could sense which stung the most sharply. He could pick out one part that wasn’t so incredibly unintelligible – nostalgia. Warm, but sad.

            Stars. Bright and shining. Absorbent, consuming darkness. Burning. Far away, and yet any distance was not regarded by light. Stark in contrast to the darkness surrounding them, and yet… what was between the light and darkness? They could meet, but not touch.

            Twilight.

            Grey.

            In between _and_ neither.

            Familiar.

 

            “Cold” Fuu’s voice broke the dream and he snapped awake, or more rather stumbled to it.

            He was a little surprised to see Seifer kneeling in front of him, but didn’t react at first. “You’re like ice. You doing alright?” he’d retracted his hand away from Terra’s forehead.

            He took a deep breath in, then sighed. “Yeah.”

            “You know, if you’ve got a cold, you should probably go home, y’know?” Rai offered, leaning down to be on a similar level to Seifer.

            “Yeah, it’s not good to just lay down some place” Vivi added in, too.

            He frowned, a little, then moved to stand up. “I’m fine, thank you.”

            “Uh-huh. Looks like it” Seifer rolled his eyes.

            “Hey! Don’t bother him!” he heard Hayner call from the other side of the black top, accompanied by Olette and Pence shouting “Yeah!” strongly.

            “It’s fine.”

            “Well, alright then,” and with that, the gang moved off and the three jogged over.

            “Did they give you a hard time?”

            He shrugged. “Not really.”

            Olette squinted. “Doubtful. Anyhow, you want to play? Wantz had to go home so the teams are messed up now.”

            While he would have liked to say yes, but he was in no shape to. Already was there a settling discomfort in his lungs. “Sorry, perhaps some other time.”

            “Aw, well I’ll sit out then” Olette said.

            “You don’t have to”

            “No—it’s fine. Good luck guys” she waved her friends off and Olette led him the side of the court.

            They mostly just watched. Olette would occasionally shout encouragement, or pass the ball back when it inevitably bounced off the metal rim and launched towards her face. She seemed unbothered by this, and took no action to move out of the way.

            “So, what’re you going to do with the summer?” she asked, eyes following the ball.

            “I’m going to plant dandelions.” While Hayner’s mother had meant it as a joke, probably, he actually had taken to liking the idea.

            “Dandelions? Why would you want to plant a weed?”

            “They aren’t weeds if you want them there.”

            She took a moment, then nodded. “That’s fair, I guess. But why not daffodils, or hydrangeas?”

            He shrugged. “Space, time, energy. They’re a lot easier to take care of than most flowers.”

            “That’s true – y’know, my dad and I have a garden behind our house. It’s pretty small but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind talking to you about plants He loves gardening.”

            “Do you?”

            “Huh—yeah. Mostly just because the flowers are pretty, but, y’know, it takes a lot to get them that way. Some flowers are crazy-difficult – like, if the soil pH isn’t within a very small range they’ll just die. Even succulents can be super choosey, like if you water them too much or they’re not in the right shade level, they’ll just” Olette stuck her tongue out and made a ‘spff’ sound.

            He figured, judging by her excitement, that she would have enjoyed talking more about plants. “What’s your favorite flower?”

            “That’s tough” she started, tapping her chin. Before resuming her thought, she deftly swatted a rogue basketball, nearly hitting someone in the shin. She yelled an apology and turned back. “Well, I’d say roses, but I think my actual favorite flower is ghost pipe. It’s super weird – like, they weren’t really sure what to classify it as first. It’s a plant, but it’s got no chlorophyll – instead it basically takes nutrients from trees. It’s this pretty white color and it sort looks like it had soft scales.”

            He tried to conjure an image into his mind, but he couldn’t think of one. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.”

            “Yeah, it’s kind of rare. It’s pretty specific to what kinds of conditions it grows in, so it’s not like you’d see them in a flower box – usually. Maybe I can show you a picture at some point if the guys will even _look_ at the library over the summer” she gave a sly grin at the end.

            He chuffed, smiling wirily, but as soon as he’d gotten remotely close to laughing he began to cough once more.

            Olette frowned. “Oof, that doesn’t sound good.”

 

            When they arrived back in town, he figured they’d all split their separate ways and go home, like they did most of the time, but this time they instead moved through the tram commons to... a giant hole.

            He’d seen it before, but hadn’t really thought about it much.

            “What are we doing here?”

            “We’re going to the mansion” Pence said, as though he was supposed to know what that meant.

            “Every once in a while we go and check to see if anything comes through since Sora left. Nothing’s happened since, but y’know, it never hurts to check.”

            He looked through the hole. It opened up to forest, from the looks of it. “Uh, alright?”

            Without pause, they entered the woods and made their way along the forest floor, from which he could begin to see said mansion.

            The woods parted on either side, the wall and fence outside the mansion blocking their progress, but not entirely. Ivy and moss grew where trees could not. Behind the parted gate was the mansion, large an imposing. It stood in stark contrast to the forest, looming in silence. Though, now that he thought about it, the only sound he’d heard since they’re entered was the wind rustling the trees.

            They made their way in, disturbing the fine static dust in the air. Upon inhaling it, it tickled the back of his throat and he coughed again, burying his head in his elbow.

            “Well, if there’s anything here it knows where we are now” Pence pondered.

            He made a flat face.

            “Anyhow, I guess spread out. Yell if something’s around” Hayner said, and with that the three wandered off in different directions.

            He decided he’d stay in the center, and wait. He didn’t really want to… go anywhere. This place made him distinctly uncomfortable – a sort of deep seated disquiet. The sort of unease that couldn’t really be explained but didn’t necessarily go away despite the lack of evidence for it.

            Perhaps it was just how static everything was since they moved into different rooms. As soon as the doors closed, stillness returned to the place as though that was its permanent state of being. Empty, still, and silent. A little too familiar.

            He was about ready to go find something to do when he heard Pence yell “I found something!” from deep within the house. Hayner and Olette may as well have burst from their respective rooms. They must have known already where to go, since they were so certain on how the get there, and so he followed them into what looked like a library at first, except the floor had shifted down into the sort of architecture he wouldn’t have guessed it to have in a lifetime – blueish tinted metal panels with various wires running, lights blinking, strewn about the walls.

            They didn’t seem at all perturbed by this, instead moving along through to what could have been the deepest area if not for another doorway.

            Pence was seated at what looked like a rather complicated apparatus – several screens lined with text.

            “Nothing looks different” Olette said, eyeing around the room.

            “Nothing in _here_ , but look!” Pence pointed to the screen in front of him. Everyone leaned a little closer. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be looking for.

            “Uh?”

            “Someone’s used the computer recently!” he turned to look at Hayner and Olette.

            They glanced between themselves. “Do you think Sora came back?”

            “No, he would have at least said hello,” Olette shook her head.

            “Who else would have used this?” he asked. A rather obvious question, but he was a bit in the dark.

            “Uh, well, the person who built it… or someone who knew the person who built it, or if someone from town just stumbled in and found it. It’s not like the gate’s locked – hey wait, the gate was wide open too.”

            “If you’d been here before, why wouldn’t it be? Unless people are just wandering to-and from” he said.

            “Well, yeah, but usually we close it. And it’s not an easy door to open, either – it takes the three of us to, sometimes. It’s mostly just because its hinges are rusty, but regardless.”

            He looked towards the staircase they entered through, then the room down the hallway.

            “How recently did someone come through?”

            “Uh—the timestamp says its last use was… last night, and another time a couple of months ago.”

            There was a chill in the room.

            “I’ll be back – don’t leave this room, alright?” he warned, then went through the other doorway.

            It led to a bent corridor. At the end there were strange white pods lined against the wall, on some sort of conveyor. When he turned down, it opened to a near featureless white room with what looked like a giant lotus in the center, not so different from the one on his shirt.

            He walked forward, staring at the strange open pod. He circled it a few times – there was a story here. It was the same kind of feeling he’d gotten when he’d been atop the clock tower. Something outside his grasp, and yet he could feel it.

            But, no, there was nothing there.

            He turned back around. “Well, no one’s in there now, but I think we should leave.”

            They nodded and made their way up the stairs, moving their feet quickly. He lingered behind only a few steps, because if anyone was to bring up the rear it had to be him, he knew. They nearly made it to the door when his heart dropped.

            “Long time no see” the voice was relaxed, but a little rough. And, it sounded like he’d heard it before, but to describe it as familiar didn’t really seem right.

            He turned around. On the balcony far above, in front of the large center painting, was a man in a black coat.

            “I hadn’t expected you to have company, but I guess you can’t plan for everything… this does make it a little more convenient though, maybe” There was a considerable amount of weight in those words in spite of how casually he uttered them.

            “Who are you?”

            “What? You don’t remember?” he asked, but it was mocking in tone. “After all those memories we made together.”

            “Uh, Terra?” Pence asked, tension in his voice.

            “I… have no idea who you are” he said. There was enough uncertainty in his words that he knew would lead to doubt.

            The man sighed. He moved a hand up to flip the hood of his coat to reveal long black hair, with grey streaks, and a considerably marred face – a long scar up the side of his chin and a patch on his eye. What struck him most, though, was the other eye – the golden eye.

            “Braig” he whispered under his breath – but where did it come from? He closed his hand over his mouth – really, where did that name come from?

            “Ah! So you do remember. Though that’s not my name, you see, when I became a nobody – you know what, too long a story. The name’s Xigbar, now.”

            He squinted. “That doesn’t clear up―just what do you want?”

            “Whoa there, no need to get testy,” he said, grinning, “The old man just sent me in to test the waters. He was so disappointed when you left all of us.”

            Someone tugged on his arm. “Terra—what is he talking about?”

            Before he could say anything, Xigbar raised his voice, “what? You didn’t tell them? Well, maybe you don’t remember, but I do. I remember when you stole my eye, messed up my face” he wiped his thumb against the scar on his chin, “I also remember when you betrayed both your friends and kil―”

 ** _“T_** ** _͡_** ** _h_** ** _̶_** ** _at_** ** _̵_** ** _'_** ** _̷_** ** _s_** ** _͜_** **_en_** ** _͠_** ** _o_** ** _̵_** ** _ug_** ** _͘_** ** _h_** ** _̢_** ** _”_**

Xigbar whistled. “Oof, someone’s mad. And that glare, goodness. Been a while since I’ve gotten someone that mad at me – well, that’s not true.”

            The man stepped off the ledge. He heard gasps from behind him, but after hanging in the air for a second, he reappeared, standing up, on the ground below. Though he felt like he should have expected as such, some surprise made its way onto his face after a meek blip from his heart.

            “Y’know I’m getting the sense you really don’t remember me if you didn’t expect me to do that. Though that makes me wonder – just what or who are you? You’re not Ansem, and you’re not Xemnas either since the kid took care of them before. Y’see your, or maybe I should say _his_ , heart should be back… unless…” Xigbar mused, putting his hand up to cup his chin.

            “What good does it for you to lie?” he hissed. It wasn’t really a question he wanted answers for.

            “Lie? I’m no liar – well, that’s a lie too. But the thing about liars is that, usually, there’s truth to back up things they say. The good liars, anyway. I can promise you, though, kids I’m not lying. Not this time, anyhow. What would I gain except making Not-Terra mad? As if.”

            He felt his chest burn, but there was nothing he could do about it. There was nothing he could do, at the moment, because if he said anything it would only serve to increase uncertainty. Including his own.

            The words confirmed his worst suspicions, but that didn’t mean they were true – but they felt true. There was something within him that hung its head low, guilty and ashamed because it _knew_. But he couldn’t tell beyond that, and perhaps it was possible that was just his worst doubts blooming into fruition, but… even so.

            “Just keep them out of this. They have nothing to do with whatever you’re talking about.”

            “See, that’s where you’re wrong,” he laid his palms flat, hands a little way from his sides, “One of those three knows to access Ansem the Wise’s computer. I kind of need him, and you. I’m guessing, though, neither you nor they are just going to go quietly.”

            With that, he summoned a crossbow in each hand. Hardly but a few seconds passed and there was a quick succession of shots. In the moments between the execution and the impact, he squeezed his eyes shut and pleaded silently to whatever it was inside himself to allow him to protect them. He didn’t believe it would respond, though.

            A familiar weight formed in his hand, and when he opened his eye he saw his keyblade – guarding both himself and his friends who’d, thankfully, filed behind him.

            Without a moment’s notice he shoved them all through the door.

            “Go!”

            He slammed it shut.

            Terra turned back to Xigbar, who was sly and confident as ever.

            “You know, I’ve been eager for a rematch. I can’t get my eye back, and it’s not like I would have lasted against Xemnas, so I’ll be looking forward to defeating you again.”

            He wasn’t sure how his odds of winning were looking – already was there fatigue in his chest, along with difficulty breathing.  It was like last time he’d tried to summon the keyblade. But he wasn’t concerned with defeating Xigbar – he just needed to give the others enough time to get away.

            Then again, that seemed like a long shot.

            Even at the beginning he struggled to keep up with Xigbar – he’d teleport away before he could get close for very long, and in the moment just after teleporting away Terra was most vulnerable. Perhaps if he was just a little bit faster, he could get out of the way, but he was already faltering.

            When he knew he could no longer close the distance, he focused on just guarding himself – making sure to keep Xigbar away from the door, if possible.

            “C’mon! I’m getting bored” he taunted, the crossbows shimmering then combining to become what looked like a rifle. With that he reappeared on the balcony.

            He ran around after that, just trying to avoid getting shot, but with every hit he _did_ take he couldn’t move just that much faster. He did manage to strike it back at Xigbar, who hissed at the wound but made some other remark about being surprised he’d stopped playing chicken, or whatever.

            It was beginning to become difficult to just pay attention. He was tired. His body called for him to sleep, or more rather begged him to pass out. But he couldn’t, because he knew the moment he lied down was the moment he’d no longer be able to block Xigbar from the others.

            Xigbar returned to the first floor, reloading and firing again. He managed to roll out of the way, in front of the door, but not once more when Xigbar reloaded and tried again. He could do little more than lean heavily on his keyblade and try to push some air into and then out of his lungs.

            “You know, I’m starting to think you’re not really alive at all. That’s it, isn’t it – you’ve just got his heart inside you. You’re just left overs.”

With a solid kick, he flew through the door, rolled over his back (which pinched his neck) and skidded across the ground flat on his face.

            He lifted himself up – he could make out Hayner and… Seifer?  On the closest side of the fence, and everyone else on the other. They were arguing, begging. It looked like the gate wouldn’t budge, and so everyone had been clambering over the wall. Hayner and Seifer had probably been lifting people over.

            He made himself turn to face Xigbar, who strutted out of the mansion with one crossbow leaning against his shoulder. He knew, or perhaps expected, Terra to no longer be able to rise, which was correct.

            Kneeling, he stuck the keyblade in the ground in front of him. He’d done this for a while, for countless seconds. He’d done so to rest, to meditate, to think, to remember.

            “You know, you’re still not very good at this, even after ten years. I would have thought the old coot would have moved on…”

            He cleared all the thoughts, all the sights and the sounds from his mind.

 

There was darkness all around him, inside of him.

Deep within was a red ember. Faded, glowing comparable to that of a dying candle. This light, dim and flickering, was what separated him from existence and nothingness. And it was rage. He had neglected it for the past few months, leaving only whispers of the fury it once held, and so too his hold over his own existence.

Annoyance. Irritation. The snapping of fangs. Disdain. Contempt. Scorn. Hatred. _Rage_. It all built from this single ember, but why had it burnt so?

What rage could burn so intensely that when neglected was still enough to allow It to last?

It needed this rage, but what was its source? Where had it come from?

The memories were still beyond, out of reach. Of course. Barred access, or perhaps it was still so deep in denial it could not stretch to them.

Bitterness boiled in something heartless, but if It could have laughed at the irony It would have.

 

            The keyblade disappeared, or perhaps he let it go.

            “Sorry princess, nap time’s over,” Xigbar picked him up by his hair. It hurt. It hurt a lot, but he could not feel it. He struggled slightly, thinking of a million ways he could have escaped had he had the energy to do so. But still, he could not find that which made him burn.

            “Just… let them go. I won’t fight anymore” he managed.

            “Ah-ah. Whatever you are, you’re pretty stupid – or maybe I scrambled your brains when I stomped you – oh, what’s this?”

            He became keenly aware that he was looking at him – it. Them. It, him. I̢t͞. Iͣͫ̀ṫ̌. It͖̣̎̍̔̀. We. Us. Me. **_It._**

Panic. Terror.

            “Someone seems scared. Maybe I’ve found what’s really _you_ ” Xigbar may as well have had a mouth full of fangs, the way he threatened.

 

* * *

 

 

            Hayner could do nothing as he watched the scene unfold in front of him – Xigbar dropped Terra, whose eyes were wide with fear, and re-summoned one of his crossbows. He took the serrated part below his hand, and in one smooth motion, he slashed across the back of Terra’s neck.

            There was no sound. He just fell over.

            “Huh. I was expecting a little more than that” Xigbar sighed, “Such a disappointment” it was the one truly genuine thing that came out of Xigbar’s mouth.

            See, there was no blood. There didn’t have to be for Hayner to know that…

            “Well. Now that he’s gone, which one of you can get into that computer?”

            “I’ll never tell you!” his voice broke. His legs felt like jelly, but he readied himself… to fight? To his surprise, Seifer did too, though he didn’t know if that made him feel any more confident seeing as he was by no means able to fight someone like Xigbar.

            Xigbar tutted, then sighed once more. “Man. People with hearts are stupid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may do another round of editing for grammar/spelling errors before I move onto the next chapter.  
> (··;) well that's chapter 11 cya'll next update  
> edit: we're gonna jump back a little next chapter because it would have been very awkward to just end on, well, "The Slicey Bit" but i figured I'd forewarn. also slight warning for violence. No gore or anything like that, though.  
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	12. Wrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is blind, but so too is rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I say anything else Y'ALL THE TRAILERS AAAAAHHH!!! I'm so excited for kh3!!!  
> also this chapter goes a little dark. not like, gorey or whatever but I figure I'd say something at the outset since up until this point it's been ... lightish?

            He and Olette lifted the gate at the bottom while Pence pulled. It groaned, but did not move.

            “It’s stuck” Olette said.

            “No duh” he huffed, as anxiety turned into something like annoyance.

            “No I mean – look at the hinge.”

            They stopped lifting and Olette shifted closer. She pointed to the screw – the metal coating had peeled away, like a scab. It looked like someone had taken a hammer and bent the rivet, but there was something strange about it, too – there was some sort of purple-ish residue.

            Olette hummed for a while.

            Nerves did nothing to aid in thought. Constantly there was the anxiety – think faster, think faster! But that sort of ushering just confused the mind more.

            He saw Olette’s face line with tension and her eyes dart around. “Hey, deep breaths. We’ll figure it out.”

            There was a clatter in the background that did little to help his point, but Olette either chose to ignore it or trusted him more. She nodded and inhaled. “Someone, probably whatshisface, messed with the door.”

            “But how would that guy go between the house and here so fast—oh. Right.”

            “For the love of…” Hayner slapped his palm against his forehead. He felt so stupid for wandering in like that, not even considering…

            “Just what are you three doing in there?” Seifer’s obnoxious voice broke his train of thought.

            “Now _really_ is not the time” Pence hissed.

            Seifer raised an eyebrow, shifting his gaze between them. Rai, Fuu and Vivi looked amongst themselves.

            There was a series of bangs from the old mansion – muffled, but loud enough. Seifer dropped his guard. “Alright, uh, do you need us to push or pull?”

            “Push.”

            But, regardless of all their combined strength, the gate would not budge. It squeaked, slightly, but that was about it.

            “Alright. I got an idea. Rai, help me over,” he waved for his friend to follow.

            Rai seemed to hesitate a moment, looking back at Fuu and Vivi briefly, but complied.

            Soon, Seifer clambered over the wall and on their side.

            “Alright. Here’s how we’re gonna do it. We’re gonna get you two over, alright?” he instructed.

            Seifer layered his hands together and Hayner followed suit, Seifer telling him not to interlock his fingers (which Hayner already knew.) They both knelt down and Olette stepped forward. Though a bit unsteady at first, they pushed off the ground, standing as tall and lifting as high as they could. She was able to climb over, carefully navigating the rods on top of the brick wall. As they watched her disappear over the side, Rai and Fuu helped her down.

            “Alright, Pence?”

            Pence gave one look at the top of the wall, then between the two of them. “What about you two?”

            “We’ll be fine, Pence” Hayner said, trying to sound calm even if he didn’t feel it.

            Though he paused for a moment, Pence came over and repeated the same motion as Olette.

            When safely over, the groups on either side of the fence met at the gate.

            “I don’t like the sounds coming from in there – you guys should really try to find another way over, y’know?” Rai asked, eyes moving around.

            Seifer put one hand around a bar of the gate, looking up and down. “The only person strong enough to lift both me and Hayner up is you, Rai, and there’s not enough room between the spikes on the wall for you to lay between them, nor is anyone down there strong enough to lift you up,” he pointed to the wall, taking a small step back.

            “Even if we were to somehow figure out a way for you to do that, Hayner’s not strong enough to lift me up, and I’m not strong enough or tall enough to pull Hayner over the side, even if he jumps the highest he can. It sucks, but that’s just how it is” Seifer explained, voice firm.

            “We’ll go get a ladder, or rope, or maybe someone can get the gate” Vivi said, sounding a little unsure, but they nevertheless turned around.

            Olette and Pence hovered close by the gate, though.

            “It’ll be alright, guys―just be quick” he waved his hand, as if to push them away.

            It was in the instant they began to pick up their feet, he heard the loudest crash – he whipped around to see the door explode open and Terra skid and roll across the stone pathway like a stone across water. He caught a rather painful image in which Terra more or less rolled backwards across his neck, like a child who’d badly flubbed a summersault except a thousand times worse. He’d managed to keep ahold of the keyblade, though, and while that made a million questions pour into his mind, they blanked as soon as Terra pushed himself off the ground.

            Though his eyes were dull with fatigue, they glistened upon realizing that no, they had not all gotten past the gate.

            Terra made himself turn to face Xigbar, kneeling with the keyblade in front of him. He could see, even from where he was, there was a considerable amount of effort put into just breathing – despite how slow it was becoming. The rise of his shoulders were met with a long fall, followed by the quick intake of breath, like perhaps it was becoming too taxing to stay conscious.

            “You know, you’re still not very good at this, even after ten years. I would have thought the old coot would have moved on…”

            Despite how it seemed the last of Terra’s energies ebbed away, Hayner felt a long-dormant feeling spark and cinder. The sort of too-much presence Terra had given him on-and-off, that he’d grown numb to. It wasn’t as sharp as before though – dulled by time and something else, but still there.

            There was a metallic ring as the keyblade disappeared.

            Xigbar grabbed Terra by his hair, which made him cringe. “Sorry princess, nap time’s over.” He felt the recoil deepen as Xigbar lifted him by his white locks, but despite his empathetic pains Terra seemed only slightly bothered, looking more like someone was standing on his toes.

            “Just… let them go. I won’t fight anymore.” If his tone were to indicate anything, though, it was probably because he was just barely cognizant.

            “Ah-ah. Whatever you are, you’re pretty stupid – or maybe I scrambled your brains when I stomped you – oh, what’s this?”

            He couldn’t see well from where he was, but he could tell he was staring at the back of Terra’s head – that was when Hayner’s heart stopped.

            “Someone seems scared. Maybe I’ve found what’s really you”

 _What’s really you…?_ The phrase stuck with him, like the way when he drank something foul tasting it seemed to stick to his throat, to linger.

 _“It’s difficult to explain. I’m not really sure how, but what I do know is that I don’t really feel like I’m supposed to be here…”_   was admittance, but also something Hayner was sure he’d felt for a long time.

            He could remember a number of times Terra hadn’t been all that confident in his existence – or rather, that there was a time to go back to prior to his arrival. Like he’d just popped out of the ground, like a flower through concrete.

            He hadn’t put much stock in that, though. It sounded ridiculous, strange things aside. Sure, maybe there were things that caused the lizard-part of his brain to panic, but the idea that there was something truly unnatural going on here…

            Though… he did think about it.

            It was background noise.

            For that same long time, he hadn’t thought too much on those words. But he felt it. He felt the distinct... separation, there seemed to be between Terra and other people. But he was too present, too, like he was some glaring mark upon the world – the same way a piece of paper is made to look _off_ if there was a small hole in it. Sometimes unnoticeable, but when it is found it is not easily ignored.

            Unless you told yourself to. Unless time and time again you ignored, or argued against, the part of yourself that went _“Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.”_

            So still and so silent. Barren, empty, and cold. Forgotten easily and yet too painful, too, at times when present. A menagerie of inconsistencies and seemingly hypocritical statements until it was considered maybe there was something wrong. Something… odd. Something unnerving. Something unnatural.

            Something winding with tension, like a spring trap.

            Though the rest of his face did not move, he saw Terra’s eyes widen with fear. The first time he’d felt real fear from him.

 

            And in one smooth motion, he was gone.

 

            “Huh. I was expecting a little more than that” Xigbar sighed, “Such a disappointment” it was the one truly genuine thing that came out of Xigbar’s mouth.

            “Well. Now that he’s gone, which one of you can get into that computer?”

            “I’ll never tell you!” his voice broke.

            Xigbar tutted, then sighed once more. “Man. People with hearts are stupid.”

            “Shut up!” the fury in his voice only made it crack.

            Xigbar smiled, but it was like that of a fox in a hen house – full of teeth and equally as sinister. “What? Couldn’t come up with anything better – and, what do you think you’re gonna do with your fists that it couldn’t do with a keyblade almost as long as you are tall, kid?”

 _It_.

            Though he was boiling with anger, he needed to grab time for the rest of his friends. So he’d suffer how much Xigbar liked to talk.

            “Keyblade-shmeeblade!” Seifer proclaimed.

            “Wow. Somehow that was worse” Xigbar commented. “But anyway, that’s one mark down… man, carrying him is gonna be like carrying a box of rocks. Ugh… so will one of you be nice, hand over the computer-genius and come quietly?”

            “Never!” they all shouted at once. Hayner was really hoping they’re run away, though. But he knew – it was in none of their nature to take off running when a friend was in need. Even if they couldn’t do anything about it.

            Xigbar sighed, then made a flat expression. It was sharp, though. Not so much boredom, but moving towards irritation. “You just have to make it hard on yourselves, don’t you? Well―”

            “On three!” Seifer called. Xigbar’s eye widened, but before he could react, Seifer shouted “One-two-three!” fast enough to mince the words together.

            With that, they charged forward. Seifer threw himself off the ground and tried to drop-kick Xigbar, and at the same time Hayner attempted to punch him in the gut.

            A wall of dark that resembled flame came up, and they bounced off, flying into the gate.

            The world spun and he tried to get up, but nothing could make him.

            “Nice try. But this is _not_ my first pony-show. I do have a question, though. While not important, I am curious – just how much do you know about hearts?”

            “Like the physical thing…?” Seifer grunted, pushing himself up against the gate.

            “Alright, so not much” Xigbar said flatly. “See, most of the time you people with hearts tend to get… hmm, what’s the word? Warned? ―Something like that, by your heart whenever something’s not quite right. Me, for example, I have no heart. So I probably seem just a little off to you, don’t I?”

            “The weird coat and the giant purple crossbows don’t help either”

            Xigbar hissed out a laugh. “Very funny, but even before that you must have known. What my real question is, what about him? I don’t have a heart and even _I_ know, but you all seemed so confident in what more or less amounts to a ghost,” he looked off towards the side almost as if talking to someone else, “barely exists more than _I_ do… how can something be less than nothing?”

             “Mostly because he didn’t assault six people” Seifer held his side, making himself stand by leaning against the gate.

             “Man, if only you knew” Xigbar chuckled. He knelt down, holding Terra by the back of the neck. “Unfortunately, keeping the closet door shut doesn't mean there's no skeletons in there.”

            He dropped Terra back down and stood up.  “Well, my question’s been answered. Guess that means I’ve got no use for you now” with that, he took a more serious expression.

            While Xigbar began to bring his crossbows to the ready position, bright red lines moved down Terra’s arm. His hand moved to press his palm against the earth, elbow towards the sky as if he were trying to push himself up.

            It reminded him or roots, almost. They split and shifted and moved all the way down to his fingertips, from there disappearing into the grass.

            “If you stand still, this won’t hurt as much.”

            Hayner squeezed his eyes shut when he heard the first shot ring out, and was surprised to not feel anything – well, no pain. In fact, it felt like his arms and legs were numb, and there was an odd tingle in his spine. Tentatively, he opened his eyes and was immediately disoriented – while he wasn’t sure exactly what he was supposed to see, the world moving in slow motion was not what he could have predicted.

            But it was not just watching the world crawl by– it was also what he was seeing at all. He could perceive… more? It was as though his field of view had greatly increased, or more rather like he was looking out of someone else’s eyes _and_ his own. There was a very strange meeting in the middle of these two perspectives, however – an odd grey wall, almost. It was similar to how if you placed your thumb against your nose, trying to look through either eye made your hand nearly disappear, but not quite. More like you could see through it, somehow.

            What exacerbated the strangeness of this was he could see himself move out of the firing path – but he didn’t recognize himself by looking. It felt more like someone was telling him this. At the same time, he could see Seifer move in an identical way, just in the opposite direction. He could not really feel this movement though, because his limbs were numb. He knew only because he could see himself moving. He did know, though, that they both kept one foot on the ground before moving the other, and they moved almost at the exact same time.

            As soon as they were clear of each shot – and not by much, really – the world returned to normal. It was equally disorienting to return back to his own eyes, however, and he squeezed them shut as the world spun in circles. There was a dull pain going through his head, and he was catching flickers of visual snow every time he blinked and tried to readjust his vision.

            He made himself look again, though, if only to keep track of where everything was in relation to himself. He saw Xigbar, staring at the gate, and Terra. He was slightly more upright, pushing the top half of his body up with his palms, but his head was still hung close to his chest.

            Hayner could see the large red line, the one that followed his spine, was damaged – it was darker towards the part Xigbar had cut, and he could just barely make out little threads that had reconnected the separated parts.

            When he looked at this spine, he almost got the feeling of being looked back at.

            “What the―?” Xigbar began to say.

            Terra stuck out his left hand and grabbed Xigbar by the ankle, but he did not move his head.

            He pulled hard, and Xigbar’s foot flew out from under him. Upon realizing what had just happened, he flipped onto his back and kicked at Terra, drawing his free leg away at the same time. Terra used his attached hand to redirect Xigbar’s foot away from his face, and both parties separated. Xigbar rolled onto his side and then jumped up, while Terra instead just rocked back and onto his feet – the movement was loose, but heavy. It almost seemed much more like he was being pulled than using his own strength.

            It was in that moment, Hayner knew something was very different. No longer was there the sense of exhaustion. Still teetering towards the edge, but the flame had caught. It just needed something more…

            With a metallic ring, the keyblade returned to his hand.

            They circled for a moment. Xigbar seemed to be doing some sizing up – weighing his options. Perhaps he lacked a heart, but perhaps he didn’t need one to sense something had changed.

            “So, lose your spark? You were so much more spirited earlier” the phrase oozed sarcasm. He was met with silence. Xigbar’s eye mostly followed the keyblade, “Not very chatty, are you?”

            He paused for a moment, slowing down. “See, when the old man told me to come get you, I thought you’d be much more willing to fight me than before, especially after everything that happened.  _Especially_ after Eraqus―”

            Xigbar was promptly interrupted as Terra flew forward. He blocked with one of his crossbows. “Strike a nerve, did we?” his voice was strained, but still exuded confidence, “Why don’t we strike some more!” he shoved Terra off, then disappeared.

            Hayner searched around wildly for a moment, pressing his back against the wall when he saw Xigbar reappear on top of one of the ruined pillars.

            “Y’see,” Xigbar began, then fired several times. Terra blocked, though it pushed him back some. “I can’t say I think you’re trying that hard.”

            In a surprising burst, Terra leapt off the ground and tried to slash down on Xigbar’s head. Xigbar laughed and teleported away once more, onto a different pillar. Terra managed to land, though he was tipping forward.

            Xigbar didn’t have much trouble crossing the distance, despite how far it was – He leapt and kicked Terra off with ease.

            He landed on his side with a thud, rolling onto his feet. He was breathing quickly, but each breath was incomplete – a little droplet of blood formed under his nose. But beyond all that, Hayner saw something that unnerved him more – the eyes. Bright red irises and bloodshot, but full of tears, too. But they were not tears of sadness.

            There was such fury behind those red eyes – such rage. It was like pouring gasoline onto an open flame… and it didn’t appear Xigbar knew the vapor led back to him. Or if he did, he didn’t care.

            Xigbar dropped down, and though Terra made an effort to kick himself backwards and away, Xigbar quickly teleported behind and shot him in the back. He fell forward, holding himself just off the ground, gritting his teeth while Xigbar reappeared in front of him. He jabbed the keyblade into the ground to help keep himself upright.

            “Aw, you look so pitiful. If I had a heart, maybe I'd feel bad, but unfortunately the half of Xehanort’s that I do have isn't what you'd call _sympathetic_ ”

            Terra’s eyes widened. “Xehanort.” His voice was soft, but not kind. It was not jagged or sharp – much more like the clouds just before a storm.

            The rest of Terra’s face was blank. Mouth slightly turned in a frown, but no tension.

            The words seemed to have flipped a switch. For the longest time, Hayner had only known the distant feeling of a forest turned to ash – bare scorched trunks, the remnants of verdant trees, fuming with contempt. Everything else awash in colorless greys.

            But it was as though the clock had rewound, all the way back to the instant of the forest’s immolation.

            And so too, had awoken a dormant anxiety, but heightened. A spring trap, being wound until it’d snap down with the sort of force that’d break bone, leaving an agonized and bloody mess.

            His heart began to beat faster.

            “That’s right” he said, almost sing-song- like, “―half, though”

            Xigbar shifted space once more so he was a fair distance away, above the door. From there he combined his two crossbows into something much more like a rifle.

            Terra moved out of the way of the first few shots with ease, however he’d managed to land more or less right in front of Hayner. He heard a small gasp – much more like a quick breath in – and saw Terra acknowledge him.

            What stole his attention was his eyes, once more – bright red, violent red. When they met Hayner’s he saw more nerves pulse down his face, but before he could register it he turned swiftly away from him, taking a shot to his shoulder.

            He heard him hiss, but that was all, though he had the feeling he was perhaps _annoyed_ that he had been in the way, for if he had moved he would have been in Xigbar’s sights and in danger.

            Regardless, Terra swiftly repositioned away once more. Caught in the middle, there was little he could do but block and try to reflect the strike away from himself.

            Xigbar reappeared below his nest, still confident in his abilities, but he must have been ignorant to the presence opposite him. Perhaps it was his heart, or lack thereof – though Hayner wasn’t really sure what that meant… but yet more and more did it seem like the clouds flicker with lightning within. Perhaps his mouth lacked fangs but that meant nothing were the full brunt of the storm to roll in.

            The red marks from before – the spine, the branching off things that so closely followed the rest of the nervous system – they moved. Not alive, though – that he knew for certain despite not knowing why he was so sure – but still moving. Something other. Someone other – but that didn’t seem right.

            Pulsing, shifting ever so slightly as if to readjust, as though if they stayed still for another moment it’d expire.

            They spread down and then retracted a little, then unfurled further again until wholesale.

            “Finally given up your little façade there?”

            Silence. But it was sharpened down to a point, like a knife, and sent in violent waves towards Xigbar. The grin on his face fell off, but it seemed more like he was just confused – without a heart to decipher, perhaps, he could only receive… noise?

            He felt his own chest burn, but the feeling was removed. He felt more fear than anything, but the physical things associated with anger – that was what he felt. It created an odd disparity between his own fear and a feeling that was not his own.

            “What are you gonna do from over there?” he taunted, lifting a crossbow up to his shoulder.

            It lowered its chin slightly, head tilting to the side, like it was listening. A moment passed and it spun. With its quick turn, the keyblade split and changed forms – it took on the shape of something much more like a whip, except there was still part of the blade at the end.

            There was excellent control – having wrapped around the sniper’s neck, it stuck one foot into ground and it stopped, taking a free hand to yank on the cord hard. Xigbar was ripped off his feet despite at first digging his heels in, helpless to momentum.

            But, just before getting close enough to strike, Xigbar disappeared, reappearing upside down and swiftly circling around his opponent and firing.

            In a surprising feat of agility, it jammed its newly-reformed keyblade into the ground and threw itself upward, holding itself upside down for a moment before using a combination of gravity and its own strength to try and kick Xigbar.

            It glanced the side of his head before he got out of the way, and while doing so it returned its feet to the earth.

            But it gave him no time to recover – it slashed and he barely pulled himself back. It stabbed, and he slided to the outside of the blade. Being so close to it, still, it swiftly turned, bringing its keyblade back and instead striking its elbow to his ribs.

            He reappeared elsewhere once more, behind it. He took the brief moment to reload, before once again narrowly escaping attacks as it turned on its heels to swing the keyblade right at his head.

            It was like watching two people dance, almost – Terra, or whoever or whatever it was – was keeping up a fast pace that one could nearly snap to. Xigbar was trying to keep up with it, but it was too quick―there was no time to recover lost steps, but with each slim escape he was just a little bit more off key.

            He couldn’t really push back – there was barely enough space for him to hold out his arms, but not enough time to get a proper shot in, and he must have had to concentrate or something to bend space. So he was stuck trying to keep step, but he was gradually losing the ability to do so. Every near miss caused a spasm of panic that then instigated an alarm response not timed to the beat, and so he’d have to quickly recover if he wanted to escape again. All this left no time to think about gaining ground.

            He must have decided that it was pointless to try and advance to any distance, and chose to try and get up close.

            Less than an arm’s length away, Xigbar kneed them in the stomach. Instead of fully doubling over, they brought the crown of their head against Xigbar. Hayner felt a stinging, reverberating pain across the front of his own skull, though it felt distant, somehow.

            Xigbar stumbled back, but before he could recover further they swung their back leg and kicked him. Hard. It sent him sprawling onto his back at its feet.

            They brought the keyblade high above their head, poised to stab downwards.

            It was then that Hayner caught a view different from his own again – he was staring down at Xigbar, whose gold eye was wide.

            His perspective flickered back, and he watched it begin to bring the keyblade down when Xigbar, reflexively or out of panic, brought up one crossbow and fired directly at Terra’s head.

            Its head snapped back and it stumbled backwards, then stopped. Its hands dropped and the keyblade disappeared once more, and for a moment it stood still. The red lines pulses brightly, then dimmed for a moment. They retracted some and then ceased all motion. Then they did as well.

            Xigbar breathed unsteadily for a moment, then started to pull himself away.

            Its fingers twitched for a moment, moving in unsettling ways. Sometimes the wrist would flick up then drop once again, and all the while it stood with its back bent towards the ground but refused to fall over.

            It sort of… threw the upper half of its body forward, for a brief moment pressing its palms to its face, the red threads sharply tracing down again. It was then that it stood straight, taking one hand away from its face.

            He could see blood – both smeared on its palm and running down its arm.

            It drew its other hand away, and both its trembling fingers tightened into fists.

            Xigbar had flipped himself onto his back, trying to crawl away, but he’d put himself in the perfect position for it to stomp on his back – right between the shoulder blades. He made a sort of garbled noise.

            He wheezed, cocking another grin, “What, decide to show your true colors no-HCHK” he let out a curt noise as the heel dug in further.

**“Silence.”**

            Xigbar grimaced, baring his teeth. It stepped over to squat down next to him, watching him for a moment, both arms resting on its knees as though it was a casual instance. Xigbar turned his head to hiss at them, but that was all he could do.

            “What _are_ you?” he managed, but he was promptly cut off when it struck out one hand to cover his face.

            It rose quickly, holding him up. At first, Xigbar managed some resistance – he tried and failed to kick, gripping the arm that held him and trying to push off.

            “I don’t know. You made me.”

            The voice that came from its throat was not like the one he’d come to know. It sounded the same, yes, but the tone was unheard. It was soft and shaken, but there was a tension to it. Not whiny, but he could feel it – like something was winding in its lungs, stressing and tightening and pulling and wrenching, building up the sort of force necessary to… He didn’t know at first.

            He felt his once trembling heart stop and his blood turn cold.

            Xigbar stopped struggling – but nothing changed at first. It couldn’t have been pleasant to be held up by your head, but that wasn’t the cause – as, he could see little red threads begin to trace down             Xigbar’s face. They moved down his neck, too, and that’s when he became rigid.

            He could do little more than glance around wildly. At one point, he stared at Hayner.

            It was then that the world distorted – it flickered between his own view, and another staring out at a hand that wasn’t his, holding Xigbar up. But then, sometimes there’d be cuts to looking down that same arm – half the world missing. In those moments he could feel panic separate from his own. Fear – cold, chilled and yet electric too. It was vast and mortal and growing where as his own was different. His fear was more like when you watched something bad happen to someone else – when someone bumped their drink off a table and internally you went “oh no”, cringed and seized up like you were trying to somehow send your energies to them, or perhaps it was just your brain replaying all the times you’d done the very same.

            Except, different of course. He could not say he felt sorry for Xigbar but at the same time the fear he felt was almost palpable due to its magnitude, and perhaps that was what he felt sorry for.

            But there was another feeling that smothered both like a blanket. Rage. It felt… old. Like it’d been latent for some time, but now that it’d been sparked anew it burned with such ferocious spite it may as well have been recent.

            It was somehow piercing, barbed and pointed but also amorphous – it was solely directed at a single point and yet also did not seem to have a shape.

            Never before had he felt such rage. It wasn't his, he knew, because it seemed to scorch him.

            It burned, it hurt. It flowed through the extremities of his being like a flame, or how ice spreads over anything if it's cold enough. But it wasn't his – he had been angry before, incredibly angry, but never like this. It felt like it was washing over him, an unstoppable wave that was trying to drown him.

            And it was all directed at Xigbar.

            It _loathed_ him – a word so often misused. But so few words could capture the indefinite, endless, undying and the enormity of depth in that hatred. Wrath. Rage. Awakened from some deep pit, like it'd been lying in wait.

            It was then that some thread of consciousness wove to Xigar, and that rage was matched by terror. Panic. The breath was stolen out of his mouth – his mouth, Xigbar’s mouth, but Hayner could breathe, but with their minds shared it was difficult to distinguish.

            When he looked into Terra’s face, he saw no madness. There was no insanity behind this rage – no, there was clarity in his gaze. Clarity in the same manner when you break a bone or burn your hand.

            “You’re going to listen to me carefully, because you have to. A nobody’s existence is absence… perhaps if you had a proper heart you could will me away, but you do not, ỳ̉o̐̋ͨ̃̄͂̃u f̍͂ͦoͤ͆̐r̉fͮͭ̃͛̊ë́ite̐ͬ̒̈̑̅dͭ iͮ͂͆̽͑ͥt.”

            It was the kind of voice that reminded him of touching something hot – like, really hot. So hot that upon first contact it almost seemed cold… before giving way to burning agony.

            The world began to flicker faster – warping between viewpoints.

            “How much do you want to bet that Xehanort sent you in to see if something like this would happen? You’re di͌ͦ͛̓̎s̈́͐̏̓p͒ͯ̐̃ős͆ͭͣ̅́a͑̋̌ͤͩb̂́̋͆̒ͣlͣͥ̒͌e͑̑ͩ̍̂̆̓ ̍̐ to him. You don’t need to tell me, even if you could, because I think we both already know” Its voice is masked by calm, but it was full of glass and ice shards.

            Images began to shift and split. Fade then cut back together. It hurt – it felt like there was a wedge going between his eyes. He began to feel the sensation of Terra’s hand over his face, except he could also feel his hand over Xigbar's face, but that sensation was numb.

            He heard Xigbar make some kind of choked noise in his throat.

            “I’m going to let you go,” his voice was not deepened or constricted by anger. It wasn’t relaxed, but there was no sort of restriction to it, no ounce of fear. Cold, sharp. “If you, or any of your other members return here, I ̵wiļl n͏ot ͢l͏et you g̴o ͡a͡g̕a͘in. Tell Xehanort that, in one form or another, I will come for him. Do you understand?”

            Xigbar stared at Hayner. It made him uncomfortable.

            They retracted their hand, and the red threads detached. With that, what he saw began to flicker and warp between their perspectives. Like a broken VHS tape, nonsense flashed between fractured images of what they were seeing.

            He squeezed his eyes shut, holding his head until the sharp pain went away. The feelings that weren't his seemed to linger in the back of his mind, but decayed quickly. But in their absence was left his own fear. Perhaps it did not match having the voice stolen from your mouth or that rage, but it was more that he experienced in a long time.

            It did not help that somehow, he could still sense it. Not so much the fear, but the rage. It lingered. It stayed. Not quite as palpable but still there. Perhaps it had always been there but he had not the faculties to sense it.

            He opened his eyes, seeing only his own view, and turned towards the last he'd seen the two. Xigbar scrambled into a dark portal and the ghost stood still, watching him go.

            His heart began to beat again, a rapid pace. He felt like a frightened rabbit, frozen solid despite how near danger was. (Perhaps if he stayed still, he’d disappear.) His breath came out in quick shaking instances, one after the other, for that was all he could do with his blood unthawed.

            Without really thinking, he scrambled towards the gate. Seifer was right there too, trying and failing to open the doorway, but of course it wouldn’t open now just because they really wanted it to.

            It then turned its gaze to them. Disdain. Not a wrath like before; but that did not mean it did not pierce him all the same.

            It seemed to realize that'd given them all that look. The rage dispersed and suddenly he could not read it – him? – At all, looking at them with wide eyes but an otherwise expressionless face.

            A gentle hand placed itself above his own. The gate softly opened.

            He may as well have flown for how fast his legs carried him. He barely felt them hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (oo;;) alright see ya'll  
> jk, but yeah. This chapter was quite the undertaking -- its difficult to describe something you can't really comprehend. Also fight scenes. /Fight scenes/  
> This chapter was originally very long (33 pages) but I was like,,, that is too much for 1 chapter. so it's 22 pages instead! huzzah. ive got some more art planned for the last chapter and then we are more or less Done.  
> If there's any interest I can post a chapter for all the art I did but couldn't figure out how to place (including a gif), but that'd be after I've finished writing.  
> Goodnight  
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	13. Wrath pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have raged long against the endless night, but I find myself losing the will to fight. Not for lack of effort but for lack of right.

            In the first few moments, having reached about as far away he could be while still being in Twilight Town, standing outside the train station, he just tried to breathe.

            The ability to control that – it felt much more valuable in those first few moments, even as his lungs burned and it felt like he was nearing collapse. But he stayed awake, perhaps because his heart was thundering away in his chest and he very much wanted to stay conscious.

            No one said anything for a while either – probably for similar reasons. He counted to make sure everyone was there in between gasping.

            “What the HELL” Seifer wheezed before bracing his hands on his knees again.

            After a considerable amount of time, their breathing was back to normal. That did not mean, however, anyone’s heart rate was.

            Seifer grabbed him by his shoulders. “I could see out of your face.”

            He wasn’t sure what to say to that.

            “ _That’s_ what happened?” Rai frowned, then shivered. “You two went like, I dunno, loose would be my first word, and then you just. Dashed out of the way like it was nothing.”

            “I couldn’t – It was like I was floating and someone was pulling me” Seifer went on, putting his hands to frame his cheeks. He furrowed his eyebrows. “How much _did_ you guys see?”

            “Not much. It happened fast” Fuu answered, looking towards the general direction of the mansion.

            “We _did_ see Terra hold that guy by his face though. It was like… something something, you’re disposable, and then he said something along the lines of ‘if you come back here I’ll kill you’ but not really like that, but y’know, that was basically what he said. It was, uh. _Intense_ ” Pence explained, tapping the tips of his fingers together, avoiding eye contact.

            “The weird thing is, is that we should have been able to hear him but – like we weren’t _that_ far away. Did you guys hear like a… noise?” Olette asked.

            “Yeah it was like – y’know.” Rai put his hands together, then snapped his fingers a few times as if that would beckon the words he was looking for over.

            “It sounded like wind, except metal-ish” Vivi said, “or maybe like two sheets of metal grating against each other, or an old ship. It wasn’t loud, but it got… stronger? I guess?”

            “Did you hear that, Hayner?” Seifer asked. “Cus’ I didn’t.”

            “No” he answered, quietly.

            “Besides the whole shrugging off getting shot in the head, there were these weird red lines” Rai explained, tracing down his arm with his index finger.

            Upon phrase _red lines_ being mentioned, everyone shivered.

            “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that – except the dusks. I _did_ not like how they moved, and that reminded me of them,” Olette crossed her arms over herself, as though it was not a summer afternoon.

            Unnerving. Twitchy. Too smooth but that came from tension, not ease.

            Bad, awful. Gross. Gross in the sort of way a messed up doll was, though. It just didn’t look quite right. Like, it was on the edge reaching a point of ‘okay’, or tipping backwards into weird enough so as to not be disconcerting, but because it straddled the line it stood at a point where it was neither.

            Except those red threads didn’t make you _feel_ quite right. No happiness – they turned whatever light came from others and took a match to it. And that red – it was so _bright_. But not in the way that’d shine anything meaningful. It was singularly contained, as though the light could not extend onto others nor travel very far, like everything else repelled it. Something between selfish and bitter.

            It felt so sharp – like they’d prickle against your skin in the same way that nettle or crab grass did. Petty, but not really – bristling its quills at the world.

            But that was just how it looked (Or rather, how it made one feel when looked upon.) When considered, when its presence became infectious, it was more than just unnerving.

            It was terrifying.

“I couldn’t see very well… but I could feel it. I never really thought someone could be so mad – it was like I could reach out and grab it” Vivi explained, looking away.

            “Something” Fuu said. Though quiet, it lacked none of the weightiness.

            It was difficult to describe how it made him feel, but it had been perhaps ten minutes later and his heart still beat at a steady fast pace. Yes, it had slowed considerably, but that told him all the same.

            It stole… it possessed someone, but not fully, and he was pretty sure it took over him too. And all without him knowing – not in a way he could understand. So simple, it seemed, to have plucked control from him, isolating him within his own mind. He could do nothing to stop it, just as Xigbar could not.

            But even that—even _that_ —was nothing in comparison to what it felt like to stare down the ire of whatever those threads were. Some being, incomprehensible and unrecognizable, with only hatred in its heart. Except, it did not seem to have a heart at all. He didn’t know what it was. It did not know what it was.

            And though he had reasonable certainty that it did not hate _him_ , it mattered little – the immense, monolithic rage… fire burned all the same. It did not mean it did not hurt just because you were not intended to be burnt.

            “Hayner are – are you okay?”

            “No” he mumbled, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

            “Aw – hey man... it’s alright. We’re all alright”

            “We won’t get separated again, promise”

            Olette and Pence leaned in, circling their arms around him in an embrace that was not too tight but not too detached either. It allowed him to cry a little without feeling exposed but not so constricting so as to cause further anxiety.  

            “You good?” Pence patted him on the back.

            “Yeah, I’m good” he nodded, feeling a spasm go up his throat.

            “You sure? There’s no rush,” Olette soothed.

            “Yeah, I always do that. I’m good though.”

            They both gave him a smile, but it was the sort of smile where you push your bottom lip up first and sympathy glowed dimly in the eyes.

            “I just need… I have to know… why? Y’know. Because despite everything I still…”

            “You still what?” Seifer probed.

            “I have to ask him”

            He may as well have said he was going to grow a second head the way everyone looked at him. Wide eyes, slack jaws.

            “You what?!” Pence and Olette asked, both grabbing him.

            “That is actually the worst idea you’ve ever had – did you forget everything that just happened?”

            “Of course not!” he took a deep breath in, then let it go, “but I’ll never feel at peace if I go through the rest of the summer wondering what the hell happened.”

            “I—you—alright. You’re crazy, but alright” Pence said with a certain amount of defeat.

            “Fine. But we’re going with you. At a safe distance.”

            Hayner chuffed.

            “We’ll come too” Vivi called out.

            He raised an eyebrow.

            “Yeah. We can’t just let you three run off and get your asses kicked by a ghost” Seifer said, though he smiled a little bit. “Plus I want to know how we like. Fused for a second.”

            “Alright, then.”

 

 

            “Where would it have gone?” Seifer questioned aloud as they left the mansion, the last place they looked (mostly out of hesitation to return there) “It can’t just disappear”

            “He’s not an _it_ ” Vivi said, softly.

            “Yeah” Hayner agreed, though it lacked any sort of bite.

            “Alright, then what is it, wise guy?”

            He threw his hands up, “I don’t know! How would I?”

            “Because it’s been hanging around you three for the past couple of months!”

            “That doesn’t mean I knew anything was wrong – I mean, I did, but not really.”

            “What do you mean, Hayner?” Olette asked, frowning.

            He felt guilty, but he knew he shouldn’t have. He couldn’t have known then, and yet… “One time – and only one time – I saw that it looked like Terra had a big red tattoo going down his spine. I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, except… he didn’t know what it was.”

            Rai scratched his chin. “Do you think it’s a ghost – he?”

            “Y’know, for everything that’s happened, I almost want to say yeah” Olette sighed.

            “He’s _not_ a ghost – that’s ridiculous” Hayner huffed, then ducked under the gap and re-entered town.

            “You know what else is ridiculous? Literally everything else that happened in the past few hours!” Seifer hissed.

            “Are you saying we made friends with a ghost?” Pence asked flatly.

            “Uh. No, but yeah I guess. What I meant was that… it seems really pissed―”

            “More than just _really_ pissed” Pence cut in.

            Seifer glared at Pence, then exhaled. “It seemed _extremely_ pissed at Xigbar – it also called him some other name – pissed enough to do…. All that… what else other than a ghost could possess a person? And disappear at random?”

            “I mean, maybe. But it’s not like this _isn’t_ the first ghost we’ve seen – if it is a ghost, y’know?” Rai corrected.

            Fuu nodded.

            “Maybe he’s not been a ghost the whole time – maybe it was sorta just sticking to Terra for a while” Pence said.

            “I don’t think so. It’s not like we haven’t sensed something weird this whole time.”

            “True, but Terra never…” Olette began to say, but trailed off.

            “Never flipped his lid and stomped on a guy’s back then threatened to kill him?” Saifer phrased it as a question, but he knew it wasn’t.

            Silence.

            He thought for a bit. Where would Terra go if he wanted to be alone?

 

 

            “Mom?” he asked cautiously, hoping no one would answer back.

            “Hayner?” his mother jumped up from the couch and nearly leapt across the room, grabbing him. “Where have you been?” she patted his shoulders, his face, checking for bruises.

            “That’s a long story―”

            “Don’t you long story me young man”

            Someone—probably Seifer—made an ‘Ooo’ sound from the hallway before being shushed.

            “Who’s out there?”

            “Uh, my friends. I just needed to come by and ask if Terra was here” he said, quickly.

            His mother blinked, furrowing her eyebrows. She pursed her lips. “No, I haven’t seen him since he went to go get you – why, is he alright? Are you alright?”

            He kept himself from sucking in breath. “He’s, uh,” he tried to think of something to say. Though it hurt to lie to his mom, he didn’t really have the capacity to explain the full truth at that moment either, “It’s fine. Someone showed up who knew him and he kind of freaked out and ditched.”

            His mother looked at him for a little while, searching his face before taking in a deep breath. She nodded. “Alright.”

            He moved past his mother, opening up the cabinet under the bathroom sink and grabbing the first aid kit. He quickly walked past his mother again.

            “Hey, sweetie?” she said, softly.

            “Y-Yeah?”

            “Make sure someone knows that you’ll miss them when they go.”

            He nodded, slowly, then turned away. The door clicked as it closed.

 

 

            He gave them one last look before stepping onto the dock, nodding once.

            Night was drawing near. Crickets already began to sing not so far away. The sea birds began to hush, leaving only the lull of waves. The boards creaked under his feet.

            He paused for a moment, then took off his shoes. He sat beside them, slipping his feet into the water. The first-aid kit then rested on his lap. He opened it, quietly, prizing the plastic cover and then rifled around.

            “Uh, here’s a towelette for your… face…”

            They did not acknowledge him.

            He seemed almost relaxed. He had one foot in the water, kicking it gently, while the other was resting on his leg with his arm leaned on his knee. Without looking, he picked under his nails – instead he was focused out on the horizon, though his chin was tilted down. He looked tired.

            What ruined the casualness was a few things – first, there was a good deal of dark red blood dripping down his chin from his nose and onto his shirt, which was thoroughly saturated around the collar. Secondly was the red lines, which he needed not focus on again despite how they seemed to absorb his attention.

            But mostly it was those eyes. Though his lids seemed heavy with exhaustion, the eyes themselves were bloodshot and dark, the bright red irises seemed to illuminate a certain wildness holding over in his pupils. Though he did not have the best view, sitting to the side, he could still sense the not-quite-madness that drove whatever it was that was in there to do…

            His thoughts froze when they glanced his way. He wasn’t sure if he was afraid, necessarily, or rather that wasn’t just it – it seemed in that moment, all the thoughts he could have had seemed irrelevant. Trying to consider became meaningless when finally confronted with what was.

            “What did you think you’d find here?”

            It was then that heard what he believed was the noise described to him earlier. He could hear Terra speak, but at the beginning and end of his sentence it seemed to transition from some sort of metallic sound. Some ringing sound, a sound that seemed for a moment to stand still in time, hollow and echoing for that moment, but it was fleeting.

            He pushed air out his mouth, “Well I was hoping I’d find you here.”

            They turned their head away from him and stopped moving save for long shallow breathing.

            “You wanna tell me what’s up?”

            “Where do you want to begin?”

            “Uh, the beginning, I guess?”

            “From what starting point? Do you want ten years ago, a few months ago, or today?”

            Hayner paused for a moment. “Ten years ago…?”

            They held their breath for a moment. It was so subtle that he almost didn’t notice, though since they hardly moved otherwise it was more distinguishable. “Ten years ago I wasn’t my own separate entity. I was… left overs. Thoughts and feelings – really, only the strongest feelings – lingering. I was the utmost desire to have control once again after it’d been taken, regret at not having done what should have been done, shame at not seeing what should have seen, and rage. Rage at all that had been stolen, not lost.”

            “I don’t follow. That makes it sound like you’re not a person” Hayner wasn’t sure where this was going, but he didn’t like it. He didn’t feel in danger but he felt… wrong, though there was still an anxious part of him that wanted to throw himself off the dock if that meant getting away.

            “It’s not entirely easy to explain, but perhaps you could understand better if I didn’t tell you outright… look at the sky in front of us.”

            The setting sun was bright red, which turned the horizon scarlet. The scarlet burned to become orange and rimmed the clouds with gold.

            “What about it?”

            “Can you pick the exact point where orange becomes red? I’d suspect not. But there is distinction between the two, but where one begins and another ends is unclear.”

            “What does that have to do with…?”

            They took a deep breath. “What was it that Xehanort said? What did he describe me as?”

            Hayner frowned. “Something less than nothing…”

            The phrase sat there for a moment.

            “You may have apologized in the past, and perhaps it would have been the right thing to do had I been a real person, but given the circumstances it would probably be best if you rescinded that apology and listened to what your heart had to say again.”

            There was a certain bitter edge to that, but in the same way a cinder hisses once before going out when crushed.

            He shifted his weight for a moment. There was something in him that still felt guilty, but not more so than what made him apologize in the first place. It wasn’t so much hard to admit he was wrong, but that he had to look at Terra and acknowledge between the two of them he messed up. Now Terra wanted him to flip back on that, as though that an apparent newfound circumstances somehow changed the conditions when really it was that Hayner felt bad for making _him_ feel bad.

            Now it didn’t seem to matter much to Terra. To him, the apology had been given on a basis of credit rather than sincerity.

            But, he did try to ‘listen’ to his heart. Uncertainty was not exactly a feeling you could know though, not the in the same way he didn’t know how to proof triangles, more like how he could never truly know how another person was feeling. He could guess given evidence but truly speaking he’d never be able to place himself fully in another’s shoes, so to speak. Except perhaps today, when he was pretty sure he’d gotten as close as someone ever could. And _that_ was still deeply disturbing.

            So he guessed his best guess – he’d been supplied a word and though he disliked the relation it may have had to Terra, he did find it seemed to fit in his mouth better than any other word that came to mind, like _monster_ or _Nobody_. Those other words didn’t fit.

            “Ghost.”

            When he looked back, he saw that Terra was looking away, but he’d placed his hands over about where his heart would be, then folded them in his lap. “Yes I suppose that’d be closest… Except he’s not really dead. About as close to it as you can be, though.”

            He didn’t want them to elaborate, mostly because it made a stone sink in his chest.

            “Something less than nothing” he had a near perfect cadence to mirror Xigbar’s, but it felt even more like poison now.

            “Who—who is this ‘he’—Terra, please, I am not that smart.”

            “It’s not a matter of intelligence,” there was a sharp decisiveness in that. In the face of everything, they wouldn’t allow him to call himself dumb.

            They took a deep breath in and let it out, as if to breathe down some sparking flames. “There is another. We’re not opposites but we stopped running parallel some time ago. It was not my intention but for something like me to last so long, change is necessary. Unfortunately we’re not quite different enough, in terms of actual _being,_ Not enough that I didn’t recognize something was _wrong_. See, I knew to return to this form, I believed it was mine and that my feelings were my own. I believed I had autonomy, but the reality is that I… am not… a person. I don’t have a heart, I have no darkness or light, and I don’t truly have a physical form to call my own. If I am anything it’s just… memories.”

            At first, a thousand words popped to mind, all wanting to spill out. Preposterous! Crazy! That sounded ridiculous, one part of him believed before swiftly being snuffed out. Because in that deepest part of himself, the part of his heart that he’d tried not to listen to, knew. It knew. Maybe not how, or why, or what any of that actually meant but it knew.

            “That sounds batshit crazy” he felt himself say, though it more fell out of his mouth than him actually meaning to say it.

            “It does” they agreed, almost nonchalantly, “I have no other way of explaining it to you, unless you want me to draw you a picture.” It was the same kind of joke they’d make before, except it felt… different, not. A sad joke told with a heaviness in the chest, a vain attempt to lift that weight.

            He looked into the water. It was becoming dark as night drew nearer. “No, I don’t need a chart or something, I just – how can you _not_ be a person. I saw you—you smiled, you cried, you made shitty jokes at your own expense” his voice grew hoarse.

            “Memories… I coveted those feelings. They weren’t not _real_ , but they weren’t… made by me. I stole them, just like I stole this body, so that I could feel alive… didn’t really work, did it?”

            “That makes no fucking sense” more words spilled out.

“Just use your heart instead of your brain for once, Hayner” there was a lash in its voice.

            Hayner took in a deep breath, feeling exasperated and sad and confused and trying to settle all those feelings, but it was like trying to catch rain drops out of a downpour. “But _what_ are you?”

            “I am from the strongest emotions, but the shortest living. Rage subsides quickly, it sputters into sadness or grief or forgiveness on its own, unless you focus on that feeling. To keep being angry, you have to focus on that feeling. You even begin to forget why you were so angry in the first place, just so that you can keep feeling that bitterness and spite just so that despair won’t get in the way… That is what I am. I am bitterness, and I am spite. And I’m not _really_ alive.”

            There were no words to be had, not at first.

            He looked away from the sea, to look at Terra, or… Them. Some tears had rolled down their face, but they didn’t shake nor sob nor anything else one would do. They just seemed… hollow. Transparent. Like mist, they’d blow away if a breeze came through.

            Every ounce of his being didn’t want to believe what they were saying

            Hayner felt his mouth open and close, like he was gasping for air. “What the hell does that mean, Terra? Who the hell cares what you are, you deserve to live and whoever lost his body can deal with it” he threw out his hands. He wasn’t sure if he meant all that he said but he’d never been good with words and he wasn’t going to start then being so distraught.

             “Hayner. Look at me. I’ve run this body to its limits. What I am is not compatible with living things. Sooner, rather than later, I will run his time out. And it’s not time that I really deserve.”

            “Did I not just say―”

            “Hayner. Please…” it let out a quiet sigh, folding its hands in its lap, looking away. “For those of us not within the realm or light or dark, we are bound by a fate outside our control. This doubly true for we who have no hearts. I have already accepted this, please do so too.”

            They shifted so both their feet were in the water. Looking down into the depths, a long silence passed between them.

            When he thought about the sea, he knew in his mind it was crossable. You could take a boat or swim (if the distance was reasonable). There’d been times throughout history when the sea was shallow enough to walk through. Plenty of animals cross it on accident, like snakes that get stuck on islands. But when he looked out across the horizon, he felt like there was no _way_ he could go beyond that. Without end, nothing but clouds and the sun on the other side. It seemed like it may as well have stretched on always.

            He’d been told that hell was not fire and brimstone, it was descending a flight of stairs that never ended, walking down a hallway towards a door that you could never reach, rowing your canoe out to sea to try and meet the horizon. It was moving further away from others, and in the moment you realize how long you’ve been alone that there was no turning back.

            You may have _known_ “if I turn back…” but there was no way to. Either because the distance crossed was too great, or because there was no way to tell where ‘back’ was, or because you were so convinced you needed to keep going the idea of going back seemed absurd. That you’ve dug this hole and you’re going to die in it.

It was inevitability. The same sort inescapable certainty.

            The irony was bitter. For a presence that so often frightened him, and others, because of its uncertainty – for how it tightly wound until its inevitable but inestimable snap, for how it’d slide between vaguely irritated and seemingly content, for how at once it could be distant and aloof but then awkward and considerate – it seemed surrounded by certainty.

            “I’m leaving soon. There is one last thing I must do.”

            “You—what?”

            “Beyond everything I’ve just said – you really want something like me hanging about? – There are a few reasons. One is simply because Xehanort will most definitely return so long as I’m here, and I don’t want to put you and the others in danger – which reminds me. You all can stop hiding now. It’s rude to eavesdrop, though I understand why.”

            He cringed hard, not looking behind him to see everyone else wince too.

            “…A second reason is that there are others who want he whose heart lies inside me. Others who are most certainly on their way, and if my speculations are correct I don’t want you in a position where you have to choose between me and them…”

            “In the end though… it’s simply that I am just a danger to you. This thing that I am…  Look at the horizon.”

            Hayner looked out – as the sun lowered into the sky, the sky just above the sea turned brilliant, fiery red and the orange began to bleed. The darkness of night was beginning to creep in above that.

            “It’s too easy to get caught up in rage and hate for something such as I, something in between light and dark… neither and both, just as sunset is neither day nor night… and I fear that I will hate more than I remember love.”

            It paused, briefly. “In one fleeting moment… when it came to possibly destroying but a fraction of Xehanort and you, there was a small part of me that didn’t care what happened to you, any of you. Then, I was able to disregard that part, but if given another chance I don’t know if I could do the same,

            I am a monster, just like the Dusks. I just happen to have stolen a human face.”

            Silence. Long and drawn. The sun was so low on the horizon it made the whole sky turn red.

            “Then what stopped you?”

            “Beyond not wanting to see you hurt, there was a strong enough recoil from his heart to tell me that perhaps I had already gone too far. Despite the degrees of separation between myself and him, I was still able to feel him tell me no.”

            Hayner didn’t really understand.

            “Imagine if any time you wanted to feel… almost anything, someone needed to tell you. Except they’re far away, and so their voice echoes and distorts and you only pick up the tone. So all you had was memories of how they responded to similar situations before… the foundation of a heart I’ve made isn’t made for love. It’s just all ire.”

            There was an enormous, unwavering finality to those words. The eternity, the perpetual, the inevitability.

            But the sky was not the limit, nor was the sea un-crossable – even then, in those moments after, when the monolithic nature of those words and the belief it, he, had in them had greatest weight and clarity, he felt his heart already stir to contradict.

            “I… You – Listen to me… I don’t care about all that – I’m your friend – I love you, regardless of… that.”

            “Don’t love what can’t love you back.” Cold decisiveness.

            Silence.

            “Don’t... worry about me. When I am gone, I will fade from your memory quickly. The worlds omit what the heart disdains, and the heart contempt ambiguity.”

            The waves fell against the beach. The sun was just about to set, bringing with it night. It bathed everything in red light.

            “Go home. Leave us. Forget” despite how irritation mixed with his voice, it was heavy.

            But he’d run to the end of his defiance, and so he got up. He left the aid kit beside him, though, and turned around to leave.

            “Do I need to tell my Mom?”

            “No.”

            He had more questions, but no desire to ask them. He wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to hear their answers, either because of how they made him feel or because of their content, or because his heart had lost its will.

            He didn’t really look up from the ground as they walked away. Nothing was to be said, nothing to disturb the silence.

            Perhaps there was nothing left to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alt title; "That just be how it is on this bitch of an earth"  
> I actually doodled a chart just for the hell of it, I may throw it in at the end. Apologies for taking so long. Life's been very crazy stressful and I needed a small break. Not entirely sure when the next chapter is going to be out buuuuut yeah  
> (I'm also debating on whether it's the last or not, bc once again I underestimating how much writing it takes to get from point a to b woops. this is also the same reason this chapter is hella long)
> 
> also just as note, when I write out the word love I mean the general concept of it.
> 
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	14. The Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of what good does knowing one's fate do if the wheel can only ever turn in one direction?

            Usually, when people left, they left a hole behind. Some sort of emptiness where you’d have grown to expect them to be. But no such thing occurred with Terra gone. In the hours since he’d left, he may as well not have existed at all.

            His mother was mostly silent, occasionally looking towards the door but never long enough for him to say anything. She hardly said a word until they both finished eating, when she asked quietly if he had left. Hayner answered with a slow nod towards the floor.

            After dinner, he tried and failed to study some more, but it seemed pointless. It was the last test anyway, and he didn’t care. _Whatever_ , he thought, though the word seemed to hiss and sputter, then went to bed early.

            That was the plan at least. There were a million thoughts running through his head, but he could not choose any one of them to focus on. Where exactly was Terra going to go? Who was this ‘other’? Who was Xehanort? How do someone’s feelings take on a physical form? How does said feelings-amalgam take over somebody? That was just a fraction of all the things he thought.

            What he wanted was to grab Terra by the shoulders and scream in his face. Shake him until all his fears fell out and things were okay, until all the answers fell out too. But he knew this would not happen.

            He flipped onto his front, unable to stay in one position for long. He couldn’t seem to shake off his restlessness, though.

            He was beginning to think like him. Terra always thought of things as inevitable, because he had no heart or whatever, but Hayner had a heart. All his friends did. Maybe he didn’t need one, maybe they could change things for him? Except, there was the whole ‘fading into oblivion’ part.

            “Argh!” he hissed, kicking the blankets off himself.

            It seemed so stupid. Alright, maybe stupid wasn’t the right word. Futile. Foolish. But those were the words that seemed like they’d come out of a cartoon villain. Still, though, it did feel like it was almost impossible to escape this fate.

           Then, Bits decided to join him, sitting herself directly on his chest so he could not move. Normally he’d push her off if he needed, because she’d just go hang with Terra instead.

            Being made to lie still, he started to let go of some of his thoughts. Sleep began to pull him down, but he still felt too awake…

 

            He was in some sort of desert, very high upon a plateau, looking over giant bone-dry crags. For a moment, he was very confused, but suddenly the world shifted and he was somewhere very different – still very high up but the hills were verdant green and less canyon-y.

            He was looking out to the night sky. A meteor shower was in full swing – trails of light tracing across the sky. He stayed there for some time, just watching, when eventually he began to hear conversation. Though he couldn’t parse the words, it did draw his attention. He turned his gaze and saw three people – Terra, except his hair was brown and he didn’t look deathly ill, and two others who he did not know.

            He called out, but none heard him at first. So he tried once more, and suddenly the world fell into darkness, leaving only Terra.

            His hair became white, and he turned to look at him.

            He opened his eyes to the darkness of his room. He sat up, about to get out of bed when he saw this other Terra again, standing over him.

            “Who are you?” he asked, voice quaking.

            But he did not answer. Instead, he looked down with what only could be described as great disdain, somehow more menacing than anything the Terra he knew had ever achieved, and reached his hand out as if to grab his face.

 

            He awoke in a cold sweat, feeling like someone had slapped him.

            “Alright. Screw this, screw it, and screw the test” he whispered to himself and rolled out of bed. Bits decided to follow, trotting along after her own rude awakening.

            He lifted up as he opened the door so it swung near silently. It was parted just enough so he could peep out and look down the hallway. His mom’s feet rested on the arm of the couch.

            He sucked in a deep breath and placed one foot into the hall. Pressing down slowly, from toe to heel, until he was sure nothing would creak under his feet, holding his breath until he crossed to Mom’s room. He opened the door, bit by bit, glancing back towards his mother every so often, stopping when she stirred even slightly. When it was open just enough to allow him to slip through, he entered quickly.

            While he was mostly in the clear, he tip-toed through her room until he came across her computer. He winced as it whirred to start up, freezing still with one hand ready to shut the lid so he could dive into the closet if need be, but a few minutes passed and nothing happened.

            He wasn’t sure if this was going to work, but it was worth a shot.

2:39am >Anyone up?

            A few minutes passed, but before he gave up he was pleasantly surprised.

2:44am P <Yeah.      

2:45am O <What are you doing up, Hayner?

2:45am >I was thinking about what happened today.     

2:47am P <I can’t really sleep either. Man, tomorrow’s test is gonna suck

2:47am O <Oh definitely.

2:48am P <What are we going to do? I don’t want to just act like he didn’t exist.

2:49am >You heard him, though. He said we’re going to forget. When though is a good question

            There was a long silence after that. Occasionally the screen would read that either Olette or Pence was typing, but then they’d stop.

2:59am O <True, I guess. But since when have we been good at listening to anyone?

He chuffed, but only internally.

3:01am >Alright. What do you propose then, Olette?

Olette typed on and off for a while, until eventually,

3:07am O <I’m not really sure.

3:09am P <I hate to bring this up, but at the same time. He really did not want to see us again. I don’t think it’s because he doesn’t like us suddenly but y’know. I think he wants to be alone.

3:13am >I get that, but. Given everything else I don’t think I’d want to be around anyone either. imagine thinking like every second of the day you did not deserve to even be there, wherever you were, then finding out that “oh wow this whole time you’ve been another guy’s like, feelings, taking the form of the most pissed off fridge in the world”.  convinced that you were super dangerous or unstable– but like. He’s still someone. Half of someone

3:14am P < Less than nothing.

3:15am >whatever, regardless of what’s possible, I know that I don’t want to just let him leave without another word.

3:17am O <Yeah

3:17am P <Ye

3:18am O <So. What are we going to do?

3:19am >Guess it depends. We don’t need like, a super developed plan of attack

3:20am P <that doesn’t sound like you. What’d you do with the real Hayner?

3:21am >har har very funny.

3:23am O <not to bring down the mood but I sincerely doubt we’re going to somehow get him to stay. So what are we doing instead?

3:26am P <I’ve got an idea.

 

            He laid a blanket over his mom and turned off the light before he left, silently hoping she didn’t wake up in the next five or so minutes. Bits watched him leave from the kitchen table.

 

            It was a bit strange, meeting at the usual place at… nearly four in the morning? It was incredibly quiet, which also didn’t help. The world seemed to have stopped for a moment, as if to sleep itself.

            He was grateful when Pence and Olette showed up, also in pajamas with shoes and sweatshirts thrown on.

            “Alright, so where’d he go?”

            “Not sure, but I’ve got a feeling the way he came. The train station.”

            The three nodded and made their way through the dark streets. They must have looked a bit strange, though he was fairly certain that nearly no one was awake to notice them. In that way, it seemed very peaceful but almost too much so. Peace through absence rather than action, more like stillness than any sort of resolve.

            He wondered if Terra had already left. Like how he’d just left the hospital, slipping back home without barely anyone noticing.

            It must have been awful. How easily it was to be forgotten… He said that both the world and other people’s hearts didn’t like him…. Something something, disdain for his existence? Or lack thereof?

            He resolved, however, to remember.

            They reached the top of the train station. The night sky was clearest from up here, as was nearly the whole of town.

            His breath got caught in his throat. Terra stood at the opposite end, as if waiting for the train. He’d changed back into his old clothes – he must have gotten them while he’d been asleep, and for a moment he looked just as he did when they’re first met. His expression was something between contemplative, disdainful, and… sad. He didn’t know they were there yet.

            Without needing to say anything, they ran across, stopping just a few feet away.

            He turned, eyes widening, but before he could protest or say anything Olette stuck one finger in the air.

            “Hold your tongue young man! We’ve got something to say”  
            Terra blinked. So far, they were able to follow the plan – just be more stubborn and don’t let him speak, yet.

            Olette cleared her throat, taking in another deep breath. This time she did not yell, but her voice was firm. “Listen, we don’t really know what’s going on and, to be fair, you probably don’t either. We know we can’t ask you to stay, but… can you promise to come back?”

            He squinted. “Why would you want that…?”

            There was that same metallic tone in his voice.

            “Because we like you?” she questioned, as though obvious, “You’re our friend, weird incomprehensible stuff aside. Plus once you get everything sorted out things won’t be so crazy. It won’t be like it was before but, y’know, so what? Things change. We’re adaptable.”

            Terra still looked bewildered, mouth a little open as though he wanted to speak but couldn’t figure out what to say. Before he could gather the words to do so, however, Pence marched up to him, probably as confidently as Pence had ever done anything, and pulled a picture out of his coat pocket, then thrust it into Terra’s hands.

            “Listen,” Pence began. There was the faint echo of anxiety in his voice, but he put it aside to say what he wanted to be said. Sticking to the plan. “We’ve got, like, three pictures of you. The first one you’re off to the side, the second one you’re scowling like this,” Pence gave his best impression, pressing his lips into a flat line and furrowing his brow slightly with his eyes half lidded, “This is the _only_ picture we have of you smiling, so you better give this back – or else! And sign this one”

            Terra looked at the photo. He frowned, but it wasn’t like the frown Pence had imitated. “Why are you giving me this?”

            “It’s proof you existed. It’s proof _you_ spent time with _us_. Maybe you weren’t completely free of ‘weird incomprehensible stuff’ but _you_ were here. _You_ had friends—and _your_ friends want _you_ to get your ass back here as soon as possible!” He pressed his lips together to keep his mouth still. There was a lump in his throat, but he’d managed to speak through it.

            Terra glanced at the photo again, then folded it neatly and tucked it into his pocket. He let out a deep sigh and looked between the three of them. He knelt down, so as to be more on their level. So he didn’t look down on them.

            “Alright, listen… I wish—there’s so much that I wish I could do. I don't know what makes you put so much faith in me… but, I maintain my promise from before. If… I can come back, I will. I wish for nothing more. I promise you that, even if I know the sanctity of that's been dulled given all that’s happened. But I won't ask you to believe me, just know that if I can, I will. I may not be able to love you like a real person could but I do care for your happiness.”

            The pause afterwards was filled with near perfect silence.

            “Can… we have something to remember you by—since you said we'd forget?”

            Pence handed him the other picture – the one of him scowling, and a pen. Olette and Hayner had finally beaten him at connect four, and they’d made fun of him for being a sore loser when he reset the board so he didn’t have to look their victory row. Terra took the pen and very carefully signed the back.

            “There is something more substantial… hold on a moment.”

            He stood back up, and hit the shoulder guard of his armor. In a flash of light, suddenly he was covered head to toe in red and gold armor. It made him an even more imposing figure, until he took off his helmet, which he gave to Olette to hold. She stared into the dark visor, then turned around in her hands to get a better view.

            He grabbed the long cape that fell behind him and in one swift tug, it was off. He folded it over his arm and handed it over. Hayner was surprised by how heavy it was, despite its worn appearance.

            “I cannot promise you that all your memories will stay intact, but… Let that serve as a reminder that… If you ever feel afraid, or uncertain, know that I believe in you. Perhaps I do not have any kind of love that could reach you, but just know…”

            He stood up, abruptly, turning away from them. A train appeared from nowhere, large and gold and… purple.

            “It’s time for me to leave. Goodbye.”

            Before he could run and slip away again, though, Hayner surged forward to hug him. Pence and Olette followed suit. He felt an armored hand pat the back of his head. “Tell your mom I’m sorry, if she remembers me.”

            And then, he drifted out of their grip and onto the train.

            When the train disappeared, he knew that Terra was gone. He felt strange – not empty, nor hollow, but still sad. But, something in him had hope he’d see him again. It was a vague hope, but it seemed much more resilient than the feeling of loss that currently gripped him.

            Light broke on the horizon.

            “We should probably get back quick. The test’s in a few hours” Olette said, though it seemed more like she was saying it because she knew it had to be said.

            “… he took my pen.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

            “How am I supposed to fight something if I don’t know what it is?”

            Master Yen Sid thought for a moment, stroking his beard before addressing her. “While I doubt it will give up so easily, and you should not hesitate to confront it if need be, there is the possibility you may convince it stand down and relinquish control back to Terra once more.”

            She nodded. “But _what_ is it?”

            “That is a question I am not sure how to answer. Perhaps you should ask it before it disappears forever… Which reminds me. I am sending Sora and Master Riku to accompany you and provide assistance. Since such a being is unlikely to easily give up, and I am unsure of the strength of this being, I believe they may be helpful to you.”

            She was glad. Partially for said assistance, but mostly she wasn’t sure if she was ready to fight whatever this thing was on her own. Not for lack of skill, but she had a pit in her stomach.

            Something in her didn’t like where this was heading. She wanted her friend back, of course, more than almost anything… and yet, there was something in her that hesitated. Something that told her this was a bad idea. She had more than enough courage to discount it, but she did keep her hesitation in mind.

            “Master Aqua—I suggest you be careful.”

           

            Sora seemed to know Twilight Town much better than either she or Riku, and so she followed along. Her eyes wandered; the town was nice – nice people, comfortable atmosphere. A cozy little area where not much happened on a lazy summer afternoon. It seemed a bit too peaceful though – a little too still, a little stagnant. The summer air lacked any sort of a breeze.

            Eventually Sora stopped just outside an alleyway, then made his way in to find three kids sitting in a circle inside, about his age.

            “Hey guys” he greeted cheerfully.

            “Sora?” a girl with brown hair asked. She yawned afterward. “Sorry, didn’t get much sleep.”

            “It’s fine,” he said, waving his hand. “We wanted to ask if you’ve seen someone.”

            The three exchanged glances, beginning to perk up. “Who?”

            “A guy named Terra. He’s like this tall” Sora stood on the tips of his toes. “White or brown hair.”

            The blonde kid nearly jumped up. “You know Terra?”

            “Uh, well, she does” Sora turned towards Aqua.

            Aqua stepped forward. The blonde kid seemed shocked, eyes wide for a moment. Though, she didn’t recognize him.

The other boy stood up, rifled through his pockets before pulling out a picture. “He looks like this, right?” he asked.

            She examined the picture carefully. It was Terra’s face, yes, but it was not Terra. He was glowering at the camera while the brown haired girl and the blonde boy grinned wide. It was not an expression _he_ would make.

            She didn’t say anything, though.

            “Hey wait a moment” the boy said, pulling the picture close to his face to scrutinize it. He flipped it over so she could see the back.

            She gasped.

            “The Keyblade Graveyard.”

            “The what?” the three kids asked.

 

 

            It was fair to say that the moment they touched down in the Keyblade Graveyard, she wanted to leave. It brought back a whole host of bad memories to the point that it sickened her.

            Principally, a dark rainless sky.

She could no longer hide the expression on her face. Her doubts were beginning to weigh her down.

            “Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ve got your back” Riku assured, nodding slightly.

            She nodded back, staring at the dry cracked ground. She just needed to put one foot in front of the other, at least until they found him.

            They wandered for some time, eventually reaching a large flattened area with a few rock spires sticking into the air, as though holding the sky up. A hot whip of wind stirred up dust, and for a moment she could not see.

            The land was barren, empty. If it were not for Riku and Sora she would have felt completely alone, dwarfed by the sun scorched peaks surrounding her and the waterless sky above which seemed to stretch on forever.

            As quickly as it stirred, the wind ceased, revealing the one she’d come there for. He stood at the opposite end, facing away from her. They had something in their hands, but from where she was she could not tell what.

            They tucked that something into a pocket and turned their head a little, enough to hear perhaps.

            “You’ve come here for him, yes?” The tone was melancholic. Like poison, but after it’d degraded for some time, losing its potency.

            “Yes.” She answered. “But before anything else... who, or… what are you?”

            The wind picked up again, but not as harshly as before.

            “A question with no definite answer…” It began to say.

            Sora and Riku looked between themselves, to which she saw Sora mouth what looked like ‘He talks like Xemnas.’

            “…but we will do our best. To begin with, I am no demon from the dark, nor perfect absence. I am not whole, nor do I possess a heart of my own, either—perhaps you are beginning to see a pattern. An assembly of contradictions. If only you knew the half of it…”

            Aqua furrowed her eyebrow. She took careful note of what it said, though she was unsure if she could describe how it made her feel. Its presence alone unsettled her deeply.

            “What I am, is grey. Or perhaps twilight. Something between light and darkness, though I’ve found twilight to be much more pleasant… regardless, who and what I am are very different things. Who I am does not concern you. You don’t care, you don’t need to. What you desire is to dispel me and have him, _the real one_ , back,” its voice became more constricted as it spoke, as though it were hissing through its teeth.

            “It’s true, but there’s no need to fight. You can still return to him.”

            “No. It may be true there is no need to fight for you, but I do. I need you to prove I am no longer necessary. I need to prove to myself that I am my own. I need to prove to the worlds that I was here, and despite the inevitability of all things… that I chose. This is a testament to my own identity and to the strength of his will.”

            She summoned her keyblade to her hand. “You know how this is going to end.”

            Without another word, they called forth the keyblade and donned his suit of armor. It turned, staring them down through that emotionless shaded visor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	15. End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Your absence has gone through me  
> Like a thread through a needle.  
> Everything I do is stitched with its color.”  
> \- W.S. Merwin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, fighting something created to fight may not be the wisest choice of actions. Though, being wise is no one’s forte in this series except Ansem, and he’s dead, so.

            Aqua stood ready, keyblade in hand, when she heard Sora suck his breath through his teeth.

            “What is it?”

            “I think I’ve fought this guy before”

            “What?” she turned her head to examine his face. Sora was making an expression that did little to instill her with confidence nor did it indicate an explanation – baring his teeth in a frown as his skin paled.

            But there was no time for an answer.

            The suit of armor flew forward with a straight in stab. Aqua quickly turned out of the way, just past Sora. Their opponent did not halt, however, as it spun on its feet, first swinging low at Sora’s side then high at Riku’s head. Riku managed to just duck under the blade whilst Sora leapt straight into the air.

            They were both quick to respond. Both made effort at a downwards chop, but he―it blocked using the full length of the keyblade. Though there was a considerable amount of force, it was almost entirely unfazed by the attack, much to the surprise of both Riku and Sora, as well as herself.

            It happened quickly – almost quick enough she wouldn’t have noticed had she looked away for a second. It snuck one hand under its keyblade and grabbed onto Sora’s, then yanked it out of his grasp. The move was bold enough that even Riku was distracted. It sprung off the ground, then, throwing the whole side of its body into Riku, slammed into him, forcing him back. At the same time it stuck out its leg and rammed it into Sora’s chest.

            Aqua leapt in, slashing in a wide arc, but it had already leapt far out of the way.

            “That happen last time, Sora?” Riku said, a hint of irritation in his voice, but she knew it came out of anxiety – in but a few short moments their opponent had managed to successfully surprise the three of them.

            They watched as it began to circle. Measuring, calculating, looking for an opening. Despite the heaviness of its step it moved with ease.

            Sora spoke between breaths, “Something similar,” he puffed air out of his mouth at Riku while his hand hovered over his ribs, then reached out to re-summon his keyblade.

            “Any advice?”

            “Block!”

            It was then that it leapt off the ground – or rather, flew. Sailing through the air, bringing Terra’s keyblade in a large sweep. At the first instance, she did manage to block, but to her surprise it came through once again from behind. Turning on her heels, she managed to block this time as well.

            Her heart beat rapidly, she could hear her pulse. There was little time to think.

            It came through again and though she had turned in time, she hadn’t had enough time left to block – she felt the cold metal connect under her jaw. There was a distinct ringing in her ears and she saw stars, but it gave her an instant of clarity as she was no longer clouded by nerves – she felt the barrier materialize around herself and the next time it flew through, she was left unscathed.

            It landed thereafter, but did not wait an instance for any sort of recovery. It swept the keyblade through the ground in an upwards strike, drawing dust with it. She leapt into the air, feeling the wind rush past her where the slice would have made contact.

            But that was her sole moment of pause – hanging in the air for a second, perhaps – as soon as her feet hit the dry earth, it spun around to swipe at her once more. She stepped backwards, just out of the way, and sliced at her opponent. Using the straightest part of the blade, they directed her swing downwards.

            With her side open, she prepared as best she could. The hit wasn’t as bad as it could have been – being so close, the blade hadn’t enough time to gain a lot of speed. She’d gotten her arm up to block the worst of it, but she felt the teeth of the keyblade bite in. In some ways, it was worse that they were flat and blunt, because the pain didn’t seem like it’d localize in one area. It was a dull but deep hurt, reverberating in her bones.

            Before either she or it could follow up, she saw Sora and Riku return. Each came in again, but this time they’d gone for one side. She couldn’t see the expression it had behind the black visor, but she did imagine it’d made a quick calculation as to who it’d rather be hit by. As this happened, she leapt backwards.

            It chose to block Riku first. In the next instant Sora’s keyblade connected with its ribs. There was a loud metallic ring and it faltered, giving Riku an opportunity. He spun, smashing the keyblade against its head.

            It flung itself forward, but right where she’d anticipated it would. When it landed it fell frontward, its footing disrupted, tipping its head low enough that her blizzard spell made contact without its being able to block or move out of the way.

            During the resulting explosion of ice and snow, she ran past and turned to stand by Riku and Sora once again. She watched it throw one hand to its helmet, trying to brush the ice away but she knew it was frozen solid. She did wonder what it would do, though.

            Her question was shortly answered.

            In one swift move, it jerked the ice covered helmet off its head. She watched white hair spill out, but that wasn’t what stole the breath out of her lungs, what seemed to make the world stop.

            Before, she hadn’t seen his face. Not really, she wasn’t close enough before to really understand. But… this wasn’t right. It was his face but it was all wrong, just like the picture, except now all the more present. But this was different. Exhausted, sickening pale. The dark circles around its eyes seemed to highlight the force of its gaze, its wildness. Like that of a caged animal’s. But there was nothing else to their expression – no strain, but it was not relaxed either. Blank, empty. Except their eyes. His eyes.

            It was like staring into a void.

            There was something wrong that she couldn’t see, but she felt it. Like something squeezing inside her chest.

            Though the second seemed to last forever, it was ended curtly after it chucked the helmet at Riku’s head. There was a clang when the two connected, though not a thud when Sora swept over to catch the poor boy as he went down.

            Aqua wanted to help, but she saw a flash of red and gold and blocked another sweeping strike. It forced her a fair distance backwards but she stayed standing.

            There was barely an instance between each swing and strike of the keyblade. She was only just keeping up – several near misses, one after the other. Her attention was still drawn elsewhere, held down by something. She had enough focus left to pick up her feet and narrowly escape each strike. She was in too close – it was as though it was smothering her with its presence alone. The nearer she was, the more it felt like there was something unseen was trying to burn her.

            She missed a beat as her foot hit an uneven patch of ground – just an inch or so below the other. It was enough though, as in her panic at falling backward, one of her hands flew out and they struck out their own. Its finger curled around her wrist tightly and before she could react in any way it pulled her close. It brought the crown of its head against her own, and once again she saw stars. Flashes of light between darkness, flickering images of the world around her.

            The world spun as pain throbbed in waves from her forehead to the back of her skull.

            “Aqua!” Sora called, breaking up the high pitched ring in her ears.

            They looked away—the motion was smooth but not relaxed, like it had tensed all its muscles, finally bringing its gripping gaze away from her. It was then that it seemed the weight stifling her concentration was lifted, and she took the hilt of her keyblade and smacked it in the side of the head.

            That loosened its grip and she ripped her hand back, nearly flying past it to Sora’s side.

            Though the hit had weakened its hold, it seemed mostly unbothered (though it squinted its eye on the side she’d hit.) Despite the apparent fatigue in its appearance, it showed no other signs of exhaustion or pain – no quick intakes of breath, no shaking in its legs, nothing.

            She was preparing herself for another flying sweep when instead it – in a flash of light, the keyblade changed shape, from a blade to… a bow. She took in one more breath before taking off.

            She saw it disappear and reappear several times, firing small streaks of energy from the bow before it vanished again, only to reappear right in front of her once. That time she threw herself to the side and scrambled away. Though, most of what she and the others did could be described as ‘scrambling.’

            In the chaos, they’d been effectively separated having run in any direction that was away from their teleporting opponent. When it came back to earth, returning the keyblade to its normal state, she was too far away to help Sora as it flew back and forth again. For a moment, it looked like he wouldn’t need it, blocking on either side of himself successfully – until it landed and transformed the keyblade again, this time into a whip. It spun in a flurry, sending Sora flying. Riku made an attempt to help, but in one deceptively unassuming move they stopped the cord short at the beginning and so it stopped spinning. The motion followed down the rest of the whip until it snapped the blade end and the concentrated force sent Riku flying too, skidding past Aqua.

            With both her friends dispatched, it turned its focus back to her. This time she was less weighed down – with her heart hammering away in her chest, she spun and wheeled out of the way of the strikes she could and blocked the ones she could not. It was pushing her to her limit but where that was mattered little in that moment – she just focused on her next step. Each placement of her foot was made in careful regard to which strike she knew she could not block.

            Despite this, she knew she couldn’t do this forever. They were a perfect match in terms in speed but she was beginning to tire. Air started to burn in her throat. She also couldn’t get in very many of her own strikes, and those she did were simply blocked. She needed some way to break the rhythm, but she wasn’t sure how—

            —it was then, in one moment, their eyes connected. Something had shifted, or awoken. She wasn’t sure what she felt, but it seemed to still the world. It was not a pleasant feeling, though, in fact it felt more like it was screaming at her without words.

            They attempted to pass over the moment, to act as though something had not changed, but they acted too quickly. It missed a beat and swung too early, leaving itself wide open. She slashed upwards, and its head snapped back.

            It stumbled away, free hand gripping its face.

            “You may be strong, but not stronger than him!” she proclaimed as strongly as she could, despite her lack of breath.

            It had no words to retort, instead it hissed, leaning over for a brief moment. She caught a glimpse of its eyes through the cracks of its fingers—they were glowing red, burning red. It stole what air in her lungs she did have.

            It picked up one leg and, in a harsh move, kicked her directly in the stomach, knocking her onto the ground. The kick hurt but the pain seemed relative as she was sent flying into the earth. The force as she landed on her back prevented her from taking any air in.

            Without another moment’s pause it stood over her, poised to stab the keyblade down. She made a vain attempt to save herself, putting her arm up and squeezing her eyes shut so that at the very least, she wouldn’t have to watch someone with Terra’s face stab her (again.)

            There was a loud clang and her eyes shot open. She caught view as Sora’s foot crashed into its exposed side.

            The kick had enough strength to send it onto the ground, though it rolled into a kneeling position.

            She saw its mouth twitch for a second, eyes dark like a storm. She felt a change in the air, then saw it – brief arcs of electricity off its metal frame. Sora held out his hand and helped her up, but both kept an eye on it.

            It stood, free hand balled into a fist. Then, it disappeared again, seeming to have split into several crystalline structures which flew rapidly, only stopping to shoot bursts of beams. She expected for it to reappear with the bow any second.

            She and Sora separated, but this time she made sure to know approximately where he was and made a point to stay as close as she could. In the meantime, she dodged out of the way of lasers, until her concentration was broken once again.

            “Duck!” she heard Riku shout.

            Without hesitation, she threw herself to the ground. A shadow passed over her and she felt the hair on the top of her head brushed by wind. She saw it then – it had nearly bowled her over with the keyblade glider. It was nothing if not pragmatic.

            There was little time for her to remain where she was, as the summoned objects returned to attack her.

            Still though, she got a glimpse as it flew forward towards Riku. He prepared for the glider, but seconds before they would have made contact, it reformed the keyblade midflight and soared into Riku.

            Riku only just got out of the way. If not for their next move, they would have just flown past him, but they had thrust out their free hand and grabbed him by his face.

            Using their forward momentum, they brought Riku towards the ground. Aqua already felt her whole body recoil as Riku’s head was a split second from being smashed into the earth, but… it didn’t happen. Hardly an inch off the ground, perhaps less so. They’d just. Stopped short.

            It then let go.

            She was struck by the brutality but confused as to why they didn’t follow through with it. If they had, that’d be one less person to fight. What had they seen that made them decide otherwise? It gave her slight pause.

            Regardless, Sora swept in. Though easily blocked it provided Riku a moment to collect himself and get off the ground. Briefly, the three fought, until it decided enough was enough and unleashed another flurry of whip attacks, to which Sora and Riku retreated from back to her side.

            “We’re getting nowhere like this, we have to stick together.”

            Riku and Sora exchanged glances, then both nodded.

            With that, the battle resumed. The pace had not changed – still nearly too fast to keep up with. Blocking and dodging, barely evading attacks, getting in only a handful of her own strikes. But by working together, it prevented the worst consequences – they made up for each other’s deficiencies. A near miss would be followed by another’s strike or block, keeping the heat off someone whilst they tried to get their bearings.

            Any falter by their opponent was met by at least one of them. No longer was there the space a one-on-one match had.

            It had been struck twice in the chest, four times on either arm, and, after a strike to the temple, she heard it yelp. It was almost pitiful. She did not wish to be cruel but she felt little remorse for something that'd taken him away.

            Riku swept low, taking out its knee, while Sora swung the keyblade at its head. It blocked, but there was no way for it to escape or counter Aqua as she swung her own keyblade as hard as she could.

            It skid across the ground, then pushed itself onto its hands and knees after it rolled once or twice. For a moment, it looked defeated – its arms trembled slightly with fatigue and threads of hair had fallen out of place. Exhaustion had finally come to the surface. In response, it took control of its breathing – deliberate, slow breaths.

            It lifted its head, and she saw for a brief moment – tears. But not tears of sadness.

            When she was little and frustrated, she’d cry. Whether it was not doing her best or not getting what she wanted, she’d feel the same tightness in her chest, pain in the back of her throat, and tears welling up as if to relieve the pressure. It wasn’t so much a matter of gaining sympathy, she was just mad. When you were small, sometimes there wasn’t much more you could do than cry. At least then other people would know something was wrong.

            It let out a hiss of breath and electricity arced off the armor once more, but this time in quicker succession, more forcefully. The sky darkened. It rose of its feet and stuck the keyblade skywards. Lightning struck in blinding flash.

            Its eyes were red. A sharp red – bright and piercing. There was a halo of red around its head and hands, as if rage had materialized into its own kind of light.

            It snarled, baring its teeth. **_“ENOUGH!”_ ** There was something hollow and metallic in its voice.

            Red threads pulsed down its face, but she wasn’t sure what they were or even what they really looked like… but it mattered little, as soon, the fight felt over.

            It was not for lack of effort – she did try. They all did. But it moved faster than before, which was to say faster than any of them, already exhausted as they were. She did manage to block the initial hits, when it first flew in, but that mattered little, as in the moment after its last sweep it altered the form of its keyblade once more.  Shocks of lightning came from it as it did so, and it attacked with the sort of ferocity that matched the wildness of its gaze.

            It may not have been madness but it matched it in intensity.

            She did not see it as it flew through her, but she felt the keyblade connect with her spine. Electricity surged. She nearly blacked out.

            She willed herself to stay awake, keeping her vision from tunneling as best she could. But that took the energy she had left. Everything ached – it followed in a trail down her back to every part of her body. Despite the hard work of her heart or how quickly and deeply she tried to breathe, it was not enough to replenish her strength.

            Aqua forced herself onto one knee, but that was as far as she could go. She wasn’t sure if Sora and Riku were down and out or worse.

            She heard dust crunch under its boots. The slide of metal over itself. But she did not need to hear it to know it was there – she felt its presence. Like the heat from an invisible flame, or perhaps much more like smoke in that it seemed to burn her throat.

            She could see its feet – it had stooped down. If she looked up, they would have made eye contact.

            She swallowed dry air down her throat. “If you’re going to kill us, at least just tell me who or what you are, and be honest. I at least deserve to know what stole my friend’s body” she felt her voice crack, but she wouldn’t cry. Not to this thing.

            “What happened ten years ago?” Its voice was almost soft, almost apologetic. Though, it seemed as though that tone rested upon ice. Thin ice. It was holding back contempt.

            She made herself look up, off the lifeless earth and into its eyes, which was somehow worse. They both knew that she didn’t need to answer.

            When she looked into those eyes – they were bloodshot, red… but there was something _there_ . Something other. It was different than when Xehanort possessed him. This was something that wasn’t definitively _not_ Terra, and yet… There was a contradiction, there. Heartless had presence, in fact they seemed to have a whole gravitational force. Nobodies, from what she had experienced, did not have any sort of presence at all. This being seemed more like a hole in a wall – somehow between those. When absence somehow took up space. Not really darkness, but not light.

            But if it wasn’t either of those, and it wasn’t Unversed, then what was it? What else would have Terra left behind?

            Well, this, she supposed.

            Left overs. An imperfect simulacrum. A small moment in time perpetuated into infinity.

            “You’re just… pieces. Shards of memory.”

            Its expression – which had returned from its wrathful one of moments prior to something more flat but still fuming – shifted to something sharp. It did not bare its fangs in a snarl once more, but it frowned slightly. Its eyes hardened, like embers in the middle of a bonfire. Somehow, she felt this lash of anger more—the sort of burn that at first felt cold.

            It was then she saw it again – the same red lines from before, they pulsed again. She felt a sudden jolt of fear go through her body, like her heart had sounded an alarm, and without thinking, despite the fatigue which wracked her, she leapt away. It was like something had grabbed her heart and tried to wrench it out.

            As it began to stand, she raised her keyblade into the air and healed herself, Sora and Riku.

            Between that and the sudden spike of terror, she felt ready to fight again. Her second wind, which would hopefully propel her enough to finish this fight and save him. If nothing else, she could say she did her best.

            Standing once more, it glowered at her. It was intimidating – she knew already they were at a disadvantage, having been struck down once now. But she knew she could do it. She had to.

            She would save him.

            Once again, they clashed. It was as swift as before—no, swifter. Not as much as the moments following the lightning strike, but even so – it was desperation, it was rage. It would not stop because it could not lose, and she felt that. It was as though she’d managed to catch some thread of understanding in their brief meeting, though it was a small thread in comparison to her woven task.

            She had spent ten years wandering in darkness, she was not about to be stopped in a ten minute battle.

            It put up a good defense – between blocking and narrowly escaping their attacks, they were met with strong resistance. Each failed attack was followed with a counter. But, whenever this occurred often one of them would find some way to mediate it, just as before. Despite this though, its added aggression made it difficult to push back.

            They needed a way to get it to falter, but it seemed as though exhaustion affected it only lightly. They, on the other hand, were tiring. As this happened, all three knew the amount of mistakes made would increase. They were okay now, but for how much more could any one of them keep up this pace?

            She made brief eye contact with Sora and Riku and hoped her message would get across.

            It took notice of their momentary hesitation and released another burst of whip attacks. They had gotten out of the way in time, but she could feel the snap in the air as the blade of the whip curled away from her face.

            As it dispersed once more, this time into more of the crystalline drones, she hoped that it could not hear her in that form. There was no way to tell, so she simply wished such would be the case.

            “Not that I don’t mind running for my life, but does anyone have any ideas?” Riku shouted as he and Aqua crossed paths, running in the opposite direction from the firing summons, as though he’d read her mind.

            “We need to get the armor off”

            “How?” Sora called, escaping one summon only to nearly crash into another, which had just finished firing at her.

            “Remember earlier?”

            Sora gave her a thumbs up and began to run back towards Riku.

            Shortly after, it reappeared again, in full form. It puffed air out of its mouth at her but turned swiftly to block an incoming attack from both Riku and Sora.

            She moved quickly, but so much as not to attract attention to herself – Riku and Sora moved as fast as they possibly could, doing their best to give her enough time. She tried to stay out of its vision, clinging to the periphery.

            Though it had managed to dodge the blade, Sora was close enough to bring the keyblade’s guard to the side of its head. At the same time, Riku stabbed it in the back and it fell forward. On the way down, it did take a swipe at Sora, but missed. It was helpless to their next attack – with a simultaneous swing, it was knocked to earth, skidding across the ground. It had managed to stay on its feet, but only barely.

            She leapt out of her hiding place and stood before it. Without another second passing, she fired her largest blizzard spell yet. In the split second before it made contact, she watched its eyes widen as it threw its arm in front of its face. She almost felt bad for how vulnerable it looked, but not for long.

            As the ice cleared, she saw that the armor was more or less frozen solid. Begrudgingly, in a flash of light it unsuited.

            It glared down at her. There was a firework of blood from under its nose, though—how had it gotten there? She didn’t think it had rolled across its face.

            It was then that she felt a wave of anger – it was hard to describe it as anything else. Like a wave, it seemed as though it were pushing her back, but without any sort of specified target.

            It was difficult to explain how it made her feel—it could not elevate her heart rate any further, and her resolve had already grown enough to overshadow her fear. Not eliminate it, but she now felt she could overcome this. But, even so, somehow it shook her at her core. Something about it was wrong.

            Perhaps because it was a ghost from one of the worst moments of her life.

            Aqua paused for a brief moment, thinking. “Listen… You can still stop fighting. We can end this here.”

            “I’ve been fighting for ten years. It is the foundation of my being. I am not about to stop now” it spoke with some pause. It spit his blood out of their mouth onto the ground. “The express purpose of myself was to get this body back to its rightful owner. My goal, his goal, the purpose of my being, for how long I have lasted, all the things that make me what I am… was to set things right. But I want something other than that, yet none of the faculties to do so, none of that which would ever allow me to truly desire anything else. I am pieces, aware but incapable of taking any other path, but that does not prevent me from resisting. It only means that I am one to swallow my own tail in doing so. I’m not about to stop now.”

            There was a metallic ring in its voice as it spoke.

            Sora glanced at her briefly, furrowing his eyebrows. “You’ve proven your point. You’ve beaten us up pretty well, if you stop now―”

            They cut him short. “The point was never hurting you.”

            “You’ve got nothing to gain here, then” Riku said. His voice was firm but something about his tone belied uncertainty. “If you’re not trying to take revenge, that is.”

            “What do you think will happen to me when we come back together? Even a Nobody will draw its own memories into its original’s heart, but who’s to say I will? I am not independent enough for that. There’s not enough here.”

            She flickered her gaze between Sora and Riku. Sora seemed almost sad, while Riku looked deep in thought. He looked at them, or perhaps through them, when he spoke next, “Then why fight? You seem more than aware that there’s no way this is going to end the way you want it to.”

            The red lines of before returned, and once again she felt her blood freeze. This time they did not pulse, instead they remained, but they were not static – they shivered, or perhaps convulsed. A bright red glaring mark upon the world. She could feel it – hatred, rage, but it was not burning or scorching rage she long associated with darkness. This felt old, perhaps tired but not tired enough. Still potent, lashing. The same way an ember lying in a pile of ash still had the full ability to burn one’s hand if they got too close.

            “You don’t get it, do you? I envy your obliviousness. Or perhaps it’s jealousy.” They narrowed their gaze, then took in a deep breath and closed their eyes. The anger seemed to dissipate a little, soften at its edges.

            “It’s nice to breathe. To feel the wind against your face, your heart beating in your chest. There’s something thrilling about being alive when you’re not, really… that’s something else you wouldn’t get.” It opened its eyes, fierce and full of intelligence, and it scorned them. It resummoned the keyblade to its hand. After examining the blade for a moment, it looked back at them. “I presume you’ve had enough time to catch your breath. You don’t really care about all that, though I understand why, and I think it’s only fair.”

            She wasn’t sure how to feel. Despite everything, it still empathized with her if only for a brief moment.

            It began, once again, to circle them. Each step was careful – perhaps it was wary, perhaps it was preparing, perhaps both. Without warning, it took off. Aqua managed to push herself away, taking a swipe at it. It blocked, then in yet another surprising move it flew into the air, doing a flip over Riku’s head. Terra would have never been so graceful.

            Now on Riku’s side, it clashed against him. Sora broke away and came in to attack its weak side, the one that he’d already hit a number of times before, but it spun around Riku, staying close, and swung at Sora’s head. First, he had to stop himself from nearly hitting Riku in the side of the neck, and from there he narrowly escaped, ducking in enough time not to get his head smashed across, but not before the keyblade flew through his hair.

            Riku then tried to spin with it, nearly hit it his elbow, but it dropped to the ground and rolled away, then back onto its feet.

            It was a move that would have tired anyone, but it was made more visible compared to earlier – Its breathing had become much more apparent, heavier, and though its irises were full and bright there was a dullness to everything else.

            Aqua flew forward, stabbing inwards. It managed to direct her keyblade away, but not before Sora returned from the other side. It spun to meet him, but as it did she took her keyblade and slashed, hitting it sharply on its back.

            It let out a wounded gasp, as though she’d knocked the air from its lungs—no, beyond that. As though she’d knocked the life out of him. It fell to the ground heavily, more so than she expected. It seemed to agonize for a second, free hand gripping its chest. It couldn’t even gather the sort of energy to properly yelp, instead kneeling silently. It pushed air out of its mouth but had trouble bringing it back in.

            For a moment she was confused—hitting it in the spine shouldn’t have caused it this much pain. Knocked it down, yes, but it seemed entirely incapable of moving or responding in any way.

            “Just stay down!” she wasn’t sure if she meant that as a threat or in the hope she wouldn’t have to watch them struggle anymore.

            It let out a long exhale. Its breathing slowed. Perhaps it was considering?

            Then, in a burst of movement, it swept sand off the ground into her eyes.

            Her first instinct was to squeeze her eyes shut as she ducked away, trying to get the gravel and grit out. It stung extremely bitterly. She could vaguely hear commotion behind her.

            She turned to look, through her red stinging eyes and watery tears, not being able to afford any lack of eye sight in this fight.

            It moved fluidly between Sora and Riku this time. First, Riku swung low. It stuck the keyblade in the ground and lifted itself skyward. As Sora swung high, it dropped back down, landing on one foot. As the same time, it spun, swinging its other leg. The flat of its metal boot connected with the side of Riku’s head.

            Aqua flew forward with a strong swing, trying to keep it from hitting Riku again. It ever so precisely placed its kicking foot down and turned out of the way.

            If it were not for Sora’s stab, it would have been in the perfect position to strike her. When his keyblade struck it in the leg, it nearly fell but did not. However, that was not enough to prevent Riku, dazed as he was, from slashing them in the side again.

            This time, it did fall. It hissed again.

            Electricity arced off its body.

            Immediately, everyone jumped away. But no lightning followed – instead, it just rose off the ground. She wondered – did it mean to call down lightning, but couldn’t, or had it just decided against for some other unknown reason?

            It began to take a running leap, but as it became airborne, her own lightning spell attacked it. With its momentum broken, it crashed into the earth. Skidding across the dry ground, it seemed like it had smeared against it.

            It began to draw itself upright once more, but wavered as its hand slid off its knee. It was almost gasping for breath. It was as though they had been betrayed by their body – perhaps ten minutes ago they were totally unbothered by pain or all the running around they’d been doing, but it seemed that exhaustion had caught up with them. Perhaps the body they’d worked so hard to maintain hold of wasn’t really made for something like them.

            That was just speculation on her part though. If she had been smacked in the ribs as many times, she’d probably have trouble breathing too. Perhaps it could no longer ignore the pain.

            As it stood, she saw the red lines become much more apparent – or rather, they seemed to spread. Instead of just tracing its face and neck, they spread down his arms. It was then that it hit her – this was the main body of this being. Compensating for the frailty of a living form by enforcing more direct control.

            They exchanged attacks for a brief moment, until she chopped downwards. With a resounding clang, it blocked her. They made eye contact once more.

            She wasn’t sure why, but she asked one last time, “Surrender now and you won’t have to suffer anymore.”

            “You can say the same thing a thousand times and it will never reach us” snarled in the same tone as an animal with its leg in a trap. The same ferocity in its eyes, the same desperation to draw enough energy to fight. Just for a little while longer. “I will never give in so long as I am able to draw breath into these lungs and pull myself off the ground.”

            Tired, but defiant. The same way a tree shudders, groans, and creaks as its trunk bends toward the earth.

            It dipped out of her way, under the swing of Sora’s keyblade and sprung off the ground to headbutt him. As Sora stumbled back, it spun once again to swing at Riku. He managed to send the keyblade away from his face, but judging by his expression he hadn’t counted on that working.

            Aqua took advantage of the frozen moment, stabbing it in the back again. This time, she watched closely.

            The response was very similar – it let a strangled sound out of its throat and fell to the ground, wheezing with shuddering breath. The red threads seemed to convulse and retreat towards the line going down his backbone. They then quickly refurled outwards once more, spreading like roots.

            She realized that to assert this much control, it had exposed itself to the world. Now that it was not so deeply embedded, there had to be some way to separate it. But how?

            How to separate something in between existence and a lack thereof? How to shed its control?

            If one were to uproot a plant, there was only so much that could be done by pulling at its stem – like most entrenched weeds, you’d need to attack it at its roots.

            She jumped away. Sora and Riku followed suit.

            Aqua took a deep breath of air in, that burned as it filled her lungs, but if this didn’t work it may have been her last. It could backfire – enrage a being composed of it, of hatred. But, she trusted him.

            “Terra – I know you’re in there. I don’t know what’s been going on – I don’t know what they’ve done to you, but… I need your help. Fight it, just once more”

            It tilted its head at her, squinting. Not skeptical but confused. Gently, it placed its hand over where its heart would be.

            For a brief moment, perhaps only for as long as it took for the word to come out, its eyes turned blue once more.

**“Aqua―”**

            The moment passed. The red resumed, but not before its eyes rolled up, like before, and it dropped to the ground, clutching its head. It’s just as it was in the past – she knew what to do this time, though.

            Even then, though, she did feel part of her hesitate, hearing his voice as a weak but agonized sound made its way out. It looked almost small.

            She raised her keyblade into the air, and felt light gather to it.

 

* * *

 

 

            It was not altogether that different from when Xehanort had severed them, except there’d be no healing from this. They were descending, into something or maybe somewhere. Somewhere dark but not entirely full of shadow. They were a stone, sinking through water and unable to do anything about it. The further they went down, the less feeling they had.

            The sun was setting.

            They let go of a good deal of their anger. It had mostly just been lashing out, anyway—It wasn’t Aqua’s fault. She just wanted her friend back—an admirable goal. They stood in the way of that. They were glad she’d defeated them in such a way. In this way, at least, it trusted he’d be okay.

            It felt strange to let go—like something inside them had thawed.

            The spike of agony going through their head dissipated, leaving an almost warm feeling behind. It wasn’t really so much that it was warm, it was just the absence of pain, which by comparison felt good.

            Pain was an interesting sensation, for being the most unpleasant one. They had traded their unfeeling metal body for one that had betrayed them. For one that broke down. One that carried guilt like a heavy stone in their chest, that made them feel ill. How their blood would seem to boil or chill at times depending on how they felt. It was pain, but it was very different in some respects to actual physical harm. That sort of pain was just a way to stop you from getting hurt again.

            When it’d burned his arm on the oven door, every time after when it went to retrieve something from inside, the memory of the searing pain flickered to the front of its mind.

            Though, they supposed that wasn’t actually that different from guilt or shame. After they’d upset Hayner, there was a dull pain in their chest that lasted for however long it took it to apologize.

            So perhaps the only difference was how it came to be.

            They wouldn’t trade it back, though… well, they had to now. Except, they couldn’t really _trade_ it back. More eviction than anything else.

            They saw only a few options before them, or rather just two with several possible outcomes. If they ejected themselves from this form, there was no way of telling what would happen. This body had been an anchor since they left the hollow suit of armor – the ability to visualize themselves was always a key factor in how ‘real’ they felt, both to themselves and to others. To feel like they occupied or controlled something that could interact with the world. To take up space. Without that, they might just blow away into wind. Their consciousness becoming just another particle of dust. Or perhaps the world would just swallow them up, splitting the pieces of grey into their strongest dark and light values and so they’d be completely destroyed.

            Not just forgotten, but completely erased.

            The other option was to rejoin him. Or rather, to fade back in. The same way a small dab of paint could be mixed away without really altering the whole color. Technically existing, sure, but not in a substantial way. Forgotten. No one sensitive enough to detect them, and they’d be too spread out to really think of themselves as individual anyway. It didn’t really make a difference.

            They seemed to hit ‘the bottom’, whatever that meant, and with it, the last bits of sensation were gone too. There would only be a few more moments until they’d have to make their decision, but first their chose to recollect. Meditate on some things.

            They stretched out their hands, or where they’d imagine they’d be.

            Their connection to the world, one of many. Little extension of thought to bring back, to be interpreted and compared to his memories. They’d formulate some sort of response from there – a poor copy, more often than not. At best, their interpretation was distorted. But perhaps that’s what made them unique – not original, but it gave them a way to read the world in some manner.

            Because of that, they couldn’t imagine themselves as ever truly ‘independent.’ For all their desires, they were chained to a singular goal. They were _made_ of that goal. Everything else, from the name they had been called to the way they thought, was his. Every feeling an imperfect duplicate of _his_. What would they even be if not for him?

            In that sort of way, they were bitter, but they couldn’t be angry at him. It was never his choice, either.

            But it was not as though they were content, or ready to go, yet.

            There were things they’d miss. The softness of Bits fur, the easy purr that would have lulled him to sleep. The sensation of the setting sun – warm, but not abrasive. Its own sort of energy, different than that of the oven, which let a hot wave out when he opened its door that fell against him. No, the sun was more like… well, it wasn’t entirely sure.

            When they thought of these things they could almost feel it, if not but faintly. With their connection to his heart quickly being destroyed, they were unable to really think about those kinds of things though.

            But, there were different things they could still remember, still miss.

            They’d miss dinner. Not so much eating, but sitting at the table and hearing Mrs. Hayner talk about her day, her comments that she thought were hilarious. Hayner’s light jabs.

            They’d miss walking alone, listening to the same song over and over again before moving onto another. They wondered if he’d get those songs stuck in his head. Perhaps, like for them, there’d be odd moments where he’d have a memory at the tips of his fingers.

            They’d miss walking with their friends. How the sun would cast golden light upon them all at that time of the day, as though already acknowledging future nostalgia for such moments.

            Their friends laughter – their joy was not melodious, instead it was much more like rain. Pleasing if not discordant, but there was somehow harmony in that too. They had liked to make him laugh – they’d tried so hard to get him to.

            It wondered if they’d remember its laugh. It was once a taunt – “See, you can laugh.” But then, not so long ago, they’d given it a picture of its laugh, their only picture… ‘Evidence’ they called it. Evidence that he was there – no, it was there. Though why give it to him, then? Perhaps it was not so much evidence for them, but evidence for him… that they cared. That they’d miss them, too. They had trusted their hearts to hold onto their memories of it.

            Thinking of that, it seemed as though somehow, a knot of grief had been pulled loose. Maybe that was happiness – for them, at least. Perhaps… as long as it was to their fullest capacity, even if it was not the same way or extent as others, that was good enough.

            That was good enough. Yes, it was happy. Perhaps they’d even smile, if they could. Their own smile, without his help.

            The light was approaching rapidly. They’d come to a decision. With the energy they had remaining, with the strength of will they did have left, they summoned forth the keyblade. Something for him to lean on when he awoke, finally.

            Already had it begun to restore the dichotomy between light and dark, dispelling darkness and pushing twilight to its fringes.

            Goodnight, they thought.

 

* * *

 

 

            Though the dust was still clearing, she took a slow step forward. She couldn’t feel anything that alarmed her, but she wasn’t ready to relax just yet.

            A cloud of dust dispersed and she saw them – a jolt went through her. They knelt, keyblade still in hand. Its head was hung low, though, and they seemed almost entirely motionless. The red threads had ceased their erratic tremors, instead they seemed almost… still. At peace, perhaps.

            Though, she remained cautious.

            She stepped forward once more, and was surprised to hear them speak, though it was not addressed to her. The tone was very different from the one they had used to speak to her – soft, kind. Not light, but… gentle.

            “I do not have the heart to reach you, but I can only hope you hear anyway… if you can forgive me, I’m sorry. I…” it let out a shallow breath, “I want you to know that… you are my most treasured memories, something of my own making. Perhaps… I did love you, as much as something without a heart can… I’m sorry, and… I’ll miss you.”

            She caught the flash of a smile. It was hard earned – only just enough energy to do so, flickering once then gone. It let out one long exhale, then as though it was never there… the red threads split apart and disappeared.

            She knelt down.

            Aqua let out a sigh of her own, reaching out her hand. For a moment, she hesitated. Afraid that her hand would phase through him and he would disappear, but it did not. He was cold, but alive.

            “Just… sleep. I’ve got you now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! I have an epilogue in mind as well as possible misc chapters that didn't make the cut, but yes! I've been very busy these last weeks and so this chapter took a while -- lots of editing and rewrites. But it's completed!  
> Thank you to all those who gave kudos and left comments -- they made me so pumped to write this and I'm very grateful! You can't imagine how happy you've made me
> 
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?


	16. Epilogue: I Am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few things need to be squared away when you're trading your body back.

            It felt like something almost-cold was going down his spine, something like water but not quite. Slimier? He wasn’t sure how to describe it. It seemed prickly, somehow, too. Slick? He wasn’t sure, but it creeped him out since it seemed to spread from the atlas of his neck, leaking into his ribs and around from there until there was a very strange sensation between the warmth of being alive and whatever this stuff was.

 _Gross_.

            But he couldn’t say anything. He was paralyzed. It was dark, but not completely so—more like he was deep in shade rather than in a place absent of light. This didn’t comfort him particularly. It was like sitting in the shade on an almost cold day, where if you weren’t in the sun it was suddenly freezing. It didn’t help that something not-quite-cold was floating around inside him.

            Distinctly uncomfortable, and unable to do anything about it. In that way, it was almost torturous. What turned discomfort into distress was that he felt like he was being suffocated. Not choked—there was no active agent, no hand raised against him. It was like he was drowning, without a drop of water in sight. Trapped, he’d been buried alive. The walls of his coffin unmoving and yet reaching around, squeezing him like one crushes the air between their fingers to make a fist.

            He felt trapped, but he couldn’t see the bars of his cage. Just… stuck. The way a man on a deserted island was—except he couldn’t wander around. Still, though, neither could either leave.

            Someone had to come get you.

            But who was going to find him here? What even was here? Was it a place? Can you be somewhere that’s not a place? Can you _leave_ somewhere that’s not a place?

             Thoughts spilled one another.

Lava bursts through old layers of itself, cooled when exposed to the air. Glowing briefly then solidifying, frozen in place.

            He could ask questions, but not supply his own answers.

_Not much has changed._

            The thought was bitter and seemed to stir something inside him—like someone had turned over the coals and he was burning again, if only dimly.

Pressure builds under the newly cooled magma. Sometimes it is like putty and just pulls apart. Other times, it explodes.

            Freedom. He wanted out. But can you achieve any sort of freedom if you can’t even see the bars of your own cage?

            So he set about trying to figure out what the dimensions of this box was. That required being able to move, as he could see no walls and instead had to feel them, so he tried that. He started by just trying to breathe—so strange, something so reflexive no longer seemed to come naturally. Despite how he willed himself to take a breath, nothing moved.

            He wasn’t defeated, but he decided to try something else. Perhaps he needed to recall something—anything, actually. At the moment he felt a bit like a blank slate, head empty of old thoughts and feelings—no, it was more like there was… a wall between them, but he wasn’t sure how. For a brief moment, this didn’t appear too troublesome, but then he began to think about it.

            Say, he did get out of this… not-place. What’d be done with his freedom? Where would he go? What if he was at fault for something? He’d be guilty without ever having known it. What if there was someone—or many people—waiting for him? What would he say? “Sorry, don’t know you, goodbye.” Just on principle, these questions and their answers (for however unclear they were) disturbed him greatly. They unsettled him so much so the almost-cold inside him seemed much less chilling.

            The looming terror inside seemed to crack something—what he didn’t know. He was more scared of what he didn’t know than what he did. He didn’t know the dimensions of his cage but he knew the rules within it, like not breathing, but the prospect of escape seemed less and less appealing.

            But, what good would knowing anything be if he couldn’t escape?

            More long cracks seemed to spread—some of it felt like it was inside him. He was glass—no, stone, being not gradually worn down but broken. The action of winter—water had slipped between his weak points and now as it froze it expanded, it fractured him. So too was the feeling outside of him. His tomb was becoming fragmented and light began to peer through the cracks.

            There was two immense contradicting fears coming against one another, building in intensity with each streak of light, each growing fissure. Free, but without memory? Trapped, but remembering? He knew in this box there was a way to reach his memories if only he figured out a way to either move over, under, or through the wall that divided them. If he left, could he come back? Could he recover them?

            It was a different sort of paralysis.

            Like the failure of a dam, the rush of light as the not-quite-dark broke away swept over him without resistance. Not for lack of effort, but because the enormity of its power made his struggle meaningless. It merely overwhelmed him.

 

            The light seemed to short-circuit his consciousness. There was just… nothing for a good while until he felt that same almost-cold feeling went down his back, still making his stomach twist.

             It jump started the first of his thoughts, recalling the previous moments which seemed both like they’d happened a long time ago but also not all that long ago at all.

            He hadn’t even really had the choice to escape. His fear had taken control, just like before.

            Nothing had changed.

            The thought stirred the coals again, but this time he could not burn. He just felt… beaten. Not defeated but getting there. He couldn’t admit it, not yet.

            He took a deep breath in—his first in… who knew how long. Or rather, the first he’d taken of his own volition. He still couldn’t tell where he was—too bright—but he was somewhere else. Or perhaps the same place, just now there was nothing surrounding him.

            Cautiously, he opened his eyes. At first, he couldn’t really see anything besides pale white. Dry, featureless, stifling. But his mind began to make something out of nothing—at first, only shapes. They were pale colors that mixed together or consumed one another, sometimes disappearing and other times merging. He studied the shapes to see if any patterns emerged, but he could find nothing. He did, however, discover a sound. It was hard to describe at first until he concentrated on it. Reminiscent of a far off machine, low and reverberating. Cycling a few different tones over and over again, at different times and different intervals.

            It had begun faintly but was now at conversation level. Like it was talking over him, somehow. It made it difficult to think of anything else other than the sound. Like a song he couldn’t understand, arranging itself as it went but still he felt like something was trying to be communicated to him. Some sort of feeling, some concept too abstract for him to understand in words.

            The shapes became more definite. He began to recognize them— people, faces, places, events. Though bathed in light his vision tunneled into darkness. Sounds and voices at first muffled and distorted, but over time became more clear. But then, too sharp. Like the light from them burned him.

            Images flashed in confusing sequences, not connected by time only their relevance to the next. Contrasting and comparing them, as if being filed. Jarring between better days, happy memories, with agony and regret, their order came from similar layouts or phrases, colors or lights, or perhaps bitter irony as the significance was reflected upon.

            It hurt, but in the way burning alive did. Everywhere, from the outside in. And in that there was nothing he could do about it, except beg it would be over.

_Enough! Enough! I’m sorry—no more_

            Like that, it was gone. There was a droning sound in the background which started and stopped abruptly, unevenly.

 

            He gasped and another breath found its way into his lungs. It almost felt like too much—like he was drowning again, only this time he was choking on air.

            He was pulled back. Not ripped back, more like he was at the mercy of the tide. Some small floating piece to be carried wherever the waves took him, even if that was a place he didn’t want to be.

            This time, though, he was somewhere else. Not a grey void nor a blinding abyss. At first he wasn’t sure, as he was looking through the holes of a blanket. He pulled it so it wasn’t over his head to reveal this new place was a room. Not one he recognized, though—it was quite dark. It must have been late at night, as through the window opposite him he saw only pitch black, no stars.

            After considering, he realized he was on a couch. It was a bit threadbare, the fabric having started to pill in some sections and others it was becoming thin and worn. It was warm and comfortable, as was the blanket that’d been draped over him. Across the couch was a television, which produced some light—it was on, but only static played. A little icon of an empty bar in the lower middle of the screen indicated it had been muted.

            He sat up, loosely folding the blanket to his side and tried to get his bearings—it appeared he was in a small living room, connected to a kitchen that also doubled as the dining area. There was also a door that he believed lead outside but something told him he couldn’t open the door if he tried, or rather that the door would lead nowhere.

            The dinner table was small a round, with two chairs seated opposite each other and a third off to the side with papers and a set of keys stacked on top of it. Low light coming from under the cabinets narrowly illuminated the room but said light was disrupted and so all the furniture cast long hazy shadows until everything behind the couch was significantly more dark if not for the humming television.

            He turned back and stood up slowly, then glanced around some more—there was a book bag hanging on a hook by the door along with a few coats. The TV sat on a table, under it an assortment of movies and manuals to various devices as well as a phone book judging by its thickness. In the corner to his right was a box with shoes in it, and next to that a small metal bowl with pet food in it.

            There was a hallway to his left that at first looked like it ended only in darkness, but the first door to his right opened slightly allowing some light to pour out where none was before. It would have distressed him more but no fear flickered in his heart. He knew without having to ask that he was in no danger, though he did wonder by what means the door had opened. The slight amount of light combined with his adjusting eyes and he better observed the passage—on each side of the hallway were two doors, and at the end was a closet.

            Maybe this was a fever dream, and he’d wake up back in his bed…

            A thought too good to be true.

            Deciding to investigate, he pushed the door open further to what he discovered to be a bathroom. When he looked inside, he saw a few toothbrushes and a roll of toothpaste by the sink, however when he peered into the mirror above he could not see his reflection.

            He blinked and pushed the door almost closed again, deciding it was best to leave the room alone. When he turned to the room opposite, he could see that he couldn’t reach his hand out to inspect. It was like a dream—the door could not be opened because he had no knowledge of how to open this door in particular. Other doors were fine, just not this one.

            So he turned around and saw that a different door now had a light under it, streaming from the bottom faintly.

            Taking it as a hint, he walked over and extended his hand to this door. At first, he was blinded by golden light, but when his vision cleared he found himself inside a train car.

            It was medium size, bathed in sunlit hues of orange and yellow. Filled to the brim and then some with twilight. He could feel and hear it move but he saw nothing outside the car that would indicate such—it was more like he was remembering than experiencing, though the line between the two was blurred.

            The train car was completely devoid of others, so after he idled for a moment he sat down. At first he saw only the empty seats around him, the vacant floor space and unused handle bars. He turned his head, seeing if there was anything out the window but there was nothing more than sunset and the idea of a glittering ocean which seemed more like molten gold than water, so he turned his head back. He nearly gasped.

            There was someone sitting across from him.

            They looked—they looked like him! But… not. Their face was obscured by the setting sun behind them, nearly blinding him and casting dark shadows on their face.

            They didn’t jostle with the car, instead all the space seemed fixed around them. Perfectly and unnervingly still.

            He heard the sound again—the brief drone, cut off sharply before it resumed, only to cease again. Without the cacophony of other noises he got a more accurate detail of the sound in his mind – its soft, and almost low, but certain fragments are higher. Someone’s taken another sound and changed it, slowed it down. Taken something high pitched and fast and strapped a heavy weight to it.

            It was their voice, but not one that could come out of their mouth.

             There’s a different sort of sound, when they tilted their head—somehow both water and fire, flowing with ease and yet causing searing pain, like a hot cord wrapping around his mind. Electric, unnatural. Some device’s sound or someone’s voice not just distorted but mangled beyond recognition.

            He steeled himself. Feelings were mixed and continuing to amalgamamize, so he settled onto one—something along the lines of suspicion and curiosity, perhaps some flavor between. Apprehension.

            “Who are you?”

            “Depends on who you ask, but soon… you” they spoke almost tonelessly, but that somehow made it more ominous. There was weight in its words, that did not just come from the fact they did sound strikingly similar to him.

            “I am not going to let my heart get stolen again,” he said firmly.

            They considered him for a moment. “The irony is killing me.”

            He blinked. What did they know that he didn’t?

            “You think me one of your shadows, don’t you?”

            “You haven’t lead me to believe much otherwise, with the silver hair and your entire demeanor” he felt himself beginning to spark on the inside, but tried to keep it contained.

            The being leaned back, folding its hands in its lap. Its long shadow duplicated, and the two seats besides it were filled for a moment by silhouettes. He knew instinctively who they were and felt his blood freeze.

            Though its face was dark, he now saw its irises turn a very particular red. A different red, a red he didn’t think he’d seen yet could imagine very clearly. Bright red, but not burning. It was not like a hot iron, it was more like the sun.

            It brought up one hand and with a snap, the two shadows were gone. “You’d be wrong, fortunately. Fair to assume that I am not unlike the others, but I differ in one great aspect. I’m of your making, not his.”

            He leaned back, as though repelled. He detected no malice but that didn’t mean he was comfortable. It was a bitter taste in the back of his throat, something acrid but not poisonous.

            “I don’t understand. I don’t recall making… anything”

            “You did not make me on purpose. Perhaps _make_ isn’t the right word. But in your final moments in the waking world, you…” it stopped for a moment, squinting. “It’s difficult to explain. It’s one of those things you understand without having to have been told, like gravity.”

            “Can you try?” he asked.

            It sighed. “I don’t see how much good it will do you but sure. What I can say is that before your heart was stolen you split your consciousness in two directions, as of course your heart would stay with you. The other part stayed behind, to keep your memories safe and stand against Xehanort one last time even if your heart was destroyed… you made a copy, an imperfect one.”

            He wasn’t sure if he felt insulted or not.

            “But you see, to perpetuate something without a heart, to keep those feelings still… alive, without something to propel them, they manifested into something of their own. Perpetuated solely on desire to remain until they could complete their task... but of course, they saw themselves as _you_. But they weren’t, not really. That’s where we are.”

            “Oh…”

            Well, now he just felt sorry. He wasn’t entirely sure why but judging by the way it spoke, it didn’t seem very happy about its only kind-of-existence.

            “Don’t worry, I know you didn’t intend any of this to happen, just like I didn’t intend to hurt you…”

            He didn’t _feel_ hurt. Very confused, but not hurt.

            “…You’ll know soon enough” it said, as though reading his thoughts. Maybe it could.

            “Alright,” he said, but he wasn’t really sure.

            It turned to look away. Silence passed between them, undisturbed despite the sound of the train car. It felt like they were moving down, steadily but surely.

            “I’ve done my job, at least part of it. While your memories will always stay in your heart, they won’t really do any good for you until you can actualize them, which means I need to leave. And I think you’d like to have your body back, so…”

            “Wait, what?”

            “You think I just stood around with your thumb in your mouth for a few months?”

            Was that a joke?

            It huffed. “If it had gone as according to the original plan—which wasn’t really a plan but that’s what I’ll call it—I would have just been a place holder while your heart healed once it’d been restored to its rightful place. But I have my own consciousness, sort of, and I think about your memories in different ways than you do. We both can’t do that at the same time.”  
            “Why not?”

            Though he couldn’t see their face, he could feel an icy flat expression being made at him. “Earlier you were paralyzed by indecision. Your consciousness breaking because it was so fraught with uncertainty. Imagine that in every moment, because though that which separates us is very narrow, how we both think about things varies greatly.”

            “So what, you’re just gonna tip your hat and go?”

            “More or less,” it shrugged.

            “What will happen to you, then?”

            “You won’t remember me. Simple as that, and neither will most. It’s better that way.”

            Despite how casually it spoke, he got the sense it wasn’t too pleased at the present circumstances.

            “I… don’t you want someone to remember you? At least me, since I made you… accidentally or not, it doesn’t really seem fair.”

            “Fair? None of this is fair. It wasn’t meant to be. But I’m not going to be unfair myself because of it—I grew weary of memories infiltrating my mind, but that is their purpose for all their faults. I was capable of pain and joy, given time to reflect when otherwise I would not... that is more than I could have asked for. Even if the memory of me, whatever that means, fades from the minds of others, I will know that I was here. Even if only briefly.”

            “Why not keep your memories with me, then, so others could remember you—is that even how that works?”

            “The memories are the only thing that’s only mine. Everything else is in some way shape or form derived from you. Without them, I’d be nothing.”

            He nodded, slowly.

            More silence passed between them. He felt that they were coming to a stop.

            “May I ask you a favor? I’ve done little to deserve it but I hope my request is small enough.”

            He nodded again, once.

            “Could you give the picture back to my friends? I no longer need it as evidence. I know it well enough.”

            He wasn’t sure what that meant at the time but expected the answer would become more clear later.

            “I will.”

            Finally, the train car halted. When he glanced outside to see what that meant, upon looking back he saw they were gone.

            For a moment, his gaze was transfixed on where they once were.

            The door opened once more, to a dock this time. It was a mid-summer afternoon, blue sky stretched in all directions with puffs of clouds drawing across the horizon. He heard waves fall against the beach, then reach back out to sea. Though it was clearly midday, he heard crickets.

            Standing on the end was his red ghost. Red threads drifted in their macabre formation, approximately human in structure but not in a way that could be understood as such without knowing, but it really only reminded him the way the branches of a willow tree would gently sway in the breeze.

            “If you are in need of me, I will return. If not, however, allow me to fade to the back of your mind. I wish you the best.”

            With that, the red threads began to trail apart and then were gone. Like cinders, scattering to the wind before their disappeared having emitted their brief warm glow.

            He decided to sit down. The water felt strange—it felt like water, almost cold and liquid, but he understood that this was not his memory, but theirs. Or rather, something they had imagined using their memories.

            Terra took a deep breath in. It felt like the cool air of night rather than an afternoon ocean breeze, but it mattered not. He felt a strange peace. There would be many things he’d have to face, and yet... he had hope.

 

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *trumpet noises* it done
> 
> Once again, another thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos (and triceraclops for making a sick piece of art like holy crap!!) I have no idea how to describe how grateful I am.
> 
> \----  
> 12/9/18  
> So KH3 is quickly approaching and it's at this time that I look back at this fic and I see a lot of things I could have done better.  
> The key (har) to this issue is that due to the serialized nature of fanfiction, despite my planning (which, frankly, could have been better) if I had released a chapter and then wanted to do something different later, the chapter would have already been read and it would have been more difficult to go back and change things as well as severely confusing. It's A Bit Frustrating.  
> It's not so much that I dislike this fic, it's more that I think I can do better and I feel that it's a disservice to leave it as-is especially with such a positive response. I've begun a rewrite just for my own sake and have already began working out what needs to be changed, however out of curiosity I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in me uploading it. I have no idea when it'd be uploaded and it'd most likely be after KH3 comes out so will also most likely be completely blown out of the water. Since beginning the re-write there's already substantial differences but I hope to strike the same tone but construct something a little more robust, and if I were to upload a rewrite it'd most likely be it's own separate unit, and Faults would remain as it currently is.
> 
> TLDR; working on a rewrite, would anyone be interested?

**Author's Note:**

> I threw myself into Kingdom Hearts, help. But yea, this idea hit me real hard earlier today and I was like "I gotta do it" -- I haven't abandoned ds, btw, I do plan on returning to my other longfic, however at the moment the muse for that has left me.


End file.
